


The Force of Destiny

by Ghostwriter (Zoya_Zalan)



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-15
Updated: 2012-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-07 18:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/434221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya_Zalan/pseuds/Ghostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Het!Qui-Gon is sent on a mission to a hedonistic planet where a young senator named Obi-Wan Kenobi changes his life forever. AU, Angst, Romance</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    <a href="http://imgbox.com/n9IMsTor">
      <img/>
    </a>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div>The awesome base image, Sunrise in Space, was made by gucken (http://www.gtgraphics.de/); used with permission. I just added the Star Wars parts.
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: George Lucas owns all things Star Wars; I'm just borrowing. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Acknowledgements: Many, many, _many_ thanks to my beta readers, Catnip, Master Hilary, and Carol, for their insightful comments, and for bearing with me while I struggled with this monster.
> 
> This story was originally published in _The Force of a Different Color_ zine.

Nestled uncomfortably in the midst of a pack of braying plawliks, Master Qui-Gon Jinn waited patiently for the transport to reach Zantia Prime. The large, furry quadrupeds had been unsettled by the ship's reentry into normal space, and no amount of consoling, Force-induced or otherwise, had calmed the restless mass of livestock that filled the cavernous cargo hold.

The Jedi master sighed in resignation. Livestock freighters weren't exactly known for their luxury accommodations, and after receiving a brief tour of the ship before they'd departed nearly a week before, Qui-Gon knew for a fact that bunking here among the animals was about as luxurious as it got on board. Even his affinity for all forms of life hadn't spared him from the grimy, smelly reality that his journey had become. All he wanted now was to disembark as quickly as possible and find a decent lavatory facility where he could clean himself.

The loud creaking of metal jolted him out of his reverie; the transport had just entered the planet's atmosphere. That was followed by a bone-jarring shimmy that reverberated throughout the entire ship – probably the result of the pilot battling high winds. All around him the plawliks began to shuffle nervously, many of them defecating reflexively in response. Qui-Gon winced, covering his nose. Whoever said bantha feces smelled bad had apparently not spent much time in the company of these particular animals.

The sound of the maneuvering thrusters engaging, as well the telltale shift in course trajectory, caused the master to exhale with relief. They were about to land. Grabbing his travel pouch off the top of one of the utilitarian bunk feeders, Qui-Gon threw it over his shoulder and began to make his way toward the primary loading ramp on the other side of the bay. He gently slapped the flanks of the plawliks to get them to shift out of his way, sending soothing Force currents with each touch to try and help placate them.

By the time he'd woven his way through the anxious herd, the ship had extended her landing struts and settled comfortably on the ground. The Jedi master again waited patiently, knowing that the ramp wouldn't be lowered until the livestock was secured; it wouldn't do at all to have the primary cargo getting loose. One of the transport crew appeared on the upper catwalks that circled the entire hold. He gave a quick wave to Qui-Gon before activating the feeding alarm, whereupon the masses of plawliks turned and headed for the bunk feeders, just as planned.

Qui-Gon smiled and waved back. This crew had a tight schedule to keep; farewells had been made the night before while they were still in transit to minimize the time required for them to be on the ground. They would probably be airborne again as soon as the Jedi had cleared the safety perimeter around the ship.

The electric buzz of a force field snapping into place behind him was accompanied by the loud hydraulic whine of the ramp being lowered. Cool air whipped through the opening as it grew larger, tossing Qui-Gon's hair in a dizzying dance and forcing him to shield his eyes. There were indeed high winds; how the pilot had managed to get the huge transport landed without more of a struggle was certainly a testament to his piloting skills.

Pulling his cowl up and wrapping his robe securely around him, Qui-Gon descended the ramp into the fierce gusts. A lone figure awaited him at the other end of the landing field. As the Jedi drew near, he could see the other individual motioning him toward a small enclosure. He followed promptly, eager to be out of the biting wind.

His welcoming committee waited until the door had closed behind them with a soft hiss before he unwrapped the protective clothing gathered around him. The elderly face that gazed back at Qui-Gon radiated the kind of geniality he'd been told to expect from the Zantians. They were a remarkably hedonistic culture, favoring peace and pleasurable pursuits far above the petty concerns that dominated other societies, but their way of life was fiercely protected by the planet's governing assembly. Offworld visits – and any offworld interference in general – was regulated with almost xenophobic inclination, making Zantia the most talked about place that no one had ever visited. A chance to set foot on the planet was a once in a lifetime event, even for the highest-ranked diplomats and rulers in the entire galaxy...and that was only if they were extremely lucky.

"Master Jinn," the gentleman greeted warmly. "Welcome to Zantia."

Qui-Gon lowered his hood and offered the other man a deep, respectful bow. "Thank you for your kindness."

"My name is Tonneman, and I will serve as your aide while you're a guest here." He pulled out a small metal device, holding it up so the Jedi could examine it freely. "I will need to scan you and your luggage completely – merely a safety precaution."

"Of course," the master said, setting his bag down for inspection. "Please forgive my odoriferous condition," he continued apologetically when the elder man stepped toward him. "The livestock freighter was the only available transport to this sector."

"Think nothing of it," Tonneman smiled. "We're extremely pleased to have you here for the proceedings, Ambassador, whether or not you shared accommodations with a herd of plawliks en route."

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows at the comment, but wisely decided not to inquire. The Zantians were so thorough in their investigation and surveillance of offworld visitors that they probably had detailed files on what he'd consumed each day of the journey, how many hours he'd slept, and exactly what color his undergarments were.

The elder man's grin widened as he finished his scan, his dark eyes twinkling with merriment. The Jedi Master chided himself silently. Zantians were also highly empathic, another reason why they chose to keep to themselves. Tonneman had undoubtedly sensed Qui-Gon's own amusement, though the reason for it would have been unclear to him, thankfully. Smiling back politely, the master subtly reinforced his shields, though not enough to warrant suspicion. His hosts would be on the lookout for any signs of deception, given how important the upcoming negotiations were.

"If you'll follow me, Master Jinn, I'll escort you to the consular residence," Tonneman offered. Still smiling, he turned and led the Jedi down a clean, well-lit stairwell – the only feature included inside the small enclosure.

The stairwell emptied into what appeared to be an underground transportation stop, though by its relatively small size it was probably a private station, or one not frequently used. A small transport car awaited them. Upon seating themselves inside, the doors to the car slid shut soundlessly. The elder Zantian touched several controls, prompting the transport to begin its journey through the endless maze of enclosed travel tubes that extended both above and beneath the surface.

Qui-Gon watched in awe as he caught his first glimpse of Zantia's capital city through the transparent walls of the aboveground transportation channels. Even with darkening storm clouds serving as its backdrop, the skyline was absolutely magnificent. Tall, majestic buildings stretched skyward, all of them fashioned from the purest white marble. Everything looked pristine, right down to the well-manicured trees and vegetation which grew in abundance right there amid the sprawling metropolis – the perfect balance between nature and civilization. The amazing panorama was a far cry from the cold, metallic architecture of Coruscant, a planet long-devoid of any indigenous plant life.

"I'm afraid your visit coincides with the beginning of the rainy season here in the southern continent," Tonneman spoke quietly as the transport soared through one of the uppermost travel tubes, affording them both a mesmerizing view of the city below. "You may not get to enjoy the sights of Izander under a clear sky."

"It's breathtaking just as it is," the Jedi master extolled. No wonder Zantia's government went to great lengths to protect this planet and its people. A place this precious could be corrupted far too easily by offworlders.

The transport car slowed as it neared a large domed building. Lush green vines grew on the multi-leveled complex, nearly covering the surface with their leafy tendrils. For those strong in the Living Force, this place veritably pulsed with life, abundant and healthy.

Sliding fluidly up to the base of the building, their transport came to rest in a small receiving area. Upon exiting, Tonneman led him through the main dome, over extravagant waterways and around small pools that dotted the interior. There was more plant life here as well; the entire place was laid out as if one were standing in the middle of a tropical paradise without a care in the universe. Such was the way of things on Zantia; pleasure and leisure were the norms here rather than the exception. Their society knew no other way of life.

As the two entered one of the smaller adjoining domes, the elder Zantian guided Qui-Gon around several trees and bushes which grew around a large, natural-looking pool fed by the waterways from the main area. Their destination was nestled amid another vertical carpet of vines, all carefully parted by wooden trellises to allow the doorway to remain free of any hanging vegetation. Well, almost free...a single stray tendril hung limply over the entrance, the end of the vine curled wildly in one direction as if searching in vain for something on which to grab ahold.

Smiling, Tonneman gently lifted the vine, painstakingly threading it through the trellis where it could join with the rest of its kind. He then touched the control panel just beside the door. "Here are your quarters, Master Jinn," he said as the door slid open, gesturing for the Jedi to enter.

Qui-Gon's eyes widened as he stepped inside. It wasn't the largest suite he'd ever been in, by any means, but it was without a doubt the most lavish. The Jedi master gazed around the room, completely astonished at the opulence being offered to him for his stay here. There were plants everywhere, hanging in ornate holders, in decorative pots of all sizes, and even a few growing up through several spots of bare ground left free to bear whatever sprang from its life-bearing soil. Beautifully crafted tapestries in luxurious earthtone colors hung from several of the walls, reaching all the way to the plush carpeting that covered the rest of the floor.

He inhaled deeply as he took in the exquisite paintings, the silk-covered furniture, and the rich, elegant architecture of the spiral staircase that led to the upper level. There was a sweet scent in the air, just barely there, though whether it was from one of the flowering plants or from tactfully placed incense, he couldn't say. This place was a feast for the senses, and Qui-Gon Jinn's were definitely overwhelmed.

Qui-Gon turned to face the man who had guided him here. "With all due respect, I am unaccustomed to this kind of luxury. A small, modest guest room would be more than appropriate for my stay here if you have one available."

"This _is_ one of our small, modest guest rooms," Tonneman smiled sympathetically. "With all of the delegates converging for this week's conference, we're running short on accommodations in this quarter," he continued. "But if this is not suitable to your tastes, I could make inquiries?"

"That won't be necessary," the master quickly reassured him. "I'm enormously grateful for your hospitality. Thank you." As his gaze circled the room once more, he wondered idly whether it was acceptable to touch anything.

Tonneman bowed slightly and held out a small datapad. "This contains the main conference schedule as well as your own personal itinerary. My suite is right next to yours if you have any questions or concerns," he informed, gesturing toward the left side of the room. "Please don't hesitate to call on me; I am here to help you in any way that I can."

"Will I be permitted to make contact with the Jedi Council?"

"There's a communications terminal by the terrace entrance," he nodded, pointing. "You'll find directions there on how to secure an offworld connection."

"Thank you again," Qui-Gon smiled, holding out his hand to the other man. Tonneman cupped it eagerly between both of his own hands, squeezing warmly. Zantia's hedonistic society was based largely on touch. Qui-Gon could tell the older gentleman had refrained from physical contact until now out of respect for him and the fact that his own culture may not deem such close proximity appropriate. Tonneman's relief at finally being able to connect with him in this manner was almost palpable, prompting the Jedi to squeeze his fingers around the other man's in reassurance.

"I will leave you to your leisure, Ambassador," the Zantian smiled back. "There is an informal gathering scheduled for this evening, a chance to dine and mingle with the delegates before formal discussions begin tomorrow afternoon. I will return in one standard hour to direct you to the function," he finished, finally releasing Qui-Gon's hand.

After a final farewell, the older gentleman exited, leaving Qui-Gon to his thoughts. Tonight's events would be extremely important leading into the conference, a point that had Qui-Gon feeling slightly uneasy. He'd originally turned down this mission, citing that there were Jedi far better qualified - and far more willing - than he was to open himself to the kind of scrutiny that would be required for this. Yes, it was a simple assignment: all he had to do was be present for the deliberations and election of the new Zantian Primary Assembly. There would be no moderating the ensuing discussions, no calming frayed political nerves, and the threat of armed combat of any kind on this peaceful planet was almost nonexistent. He was here as a witness only – something required for all Republic planets undergoing a shift in governing bodies.

A simple assignment...

Yet it was far from simple for Qui-Gon Jinn. Sexual expression was very deeply rooted in Zantian culture, and it was almost always used as a means of gauging the intentions of others in the political arena. He was in no way obligated to engage in such activities, but his participation would be seen as a welcomed gesture, a way of confirming his cooperation and sincerity. That basically translated into the kind of casual sexual encounter that Qui-Gon had always avoided. He was a private man, not one to give friendship or affection lightly. The few intimate relationships he'd had in his life had been deep and meaningful, and he wanted nothing more than to keep it that way.

It was his former master who had ultimately persuaded him to accept this mission. A string of intense assignments, many of which had ended badly, had left Qui-Gon struggling to find his balance and sense of direction. Instead of the respite he'd intended to request, an afternoon spent having tea with Master Yoda had gotten him the chance to be a pampered guest on Zantia...albeit a reluctant one.

Closing his eyes, the Jedi master took a deep breath. It was useless to dwell further on this; he was here, and he had a job to do. He would deal with any forthcoming proposals – when and if they happened – delicately and tactfully. In the meantime, if he hoped to make a halfway decent impression this evening, a shower and change of clothing was definitely in order, though perhaps his plawlik cologne would deter any possible suitors...

Shaking his head at his own audacity, Qui-Gon wove his way through the stately suite and ascended the carpeted staircase in search of a hot shower.


	2. Chapter 2

Silk. Everyone was dressed in silk.

Except Qui-Gon Jinn.

That was only one of many things which made him stand out like a sore thumb at this function. He was a good head taller than everyone else as well, and he was the only one who wasn't barefoot, though he had compromised by removing his boots. His robe was also something of a curiosity to the delegates, many of whom greeted him by petting the dark brown material in absolute awe.

The Zantians definitely took their pleasure seriously. Dinner turned out to be every bit the _informal_ gathering that Tonneman had promised. Qui-Gon had expected tables and chairs. With utensils. He got large, silk-covered lounge pillows on the floor. With no utensils. The food, all of which could thankfully be eaten with one's fingers, was served on large, highly decorated silver platters that were strategically placed between groups of pillows. And on those pillows, the Zantian diplomats sat, or lay....or slept as they liked. It didn't take long for Qui-Gon to realize that mealtime was a major event for this society – something that most likely lasted several hours minimum.

All around the large room, the silent cross-examination had begun. Men and women were draped around one another, laughing and flirting, caressing and feeding those around them while measuring each individual's objectives in the upcoming conference. It looked very much like the warm-up to one of Senator W'eollu's orgies, which had become legendary among the Republic senatorial consortium. There was little danger of foul play within the delegation; most of the diplomats were more concerned with fair representation from a majority of the provinces than any possibility of dark, ulterior motives. There was nothing to gain here; they had everything which people throughout the galaxy craved – in abundance.

Many of the delegates had joined the master's circle of pillows throughout the evening, sharing lively discussions and politely inquiring about the life of a Jedi. Unlike Tonneman, the rest of the Zantians had approached and treated him as they would any other, with generous hugs and an almost constant need to touch and be near him. Qui-Gon had accepted the invasion of his personal space without complaint, knowing that these people didn't understand how to communicate otherwise. Having grown up in a very caring environment at the Temple, he was used to a great deal of physical contact with others, but the Zantians truly did take that to an extreme. One woman, a dark-skinned beauty with eyes the color of Alderian chocolate, had actually wormed her way inside his robe. She'd wanted to feel what it was like to be wrapped in such unusual material. The fact that Qui-Gon had still been _wearing_ the article of clothing at the time hadn't seemed to bother her in the least.

That same woman had promptly seated herself beside the Jedi for the next fifteen minutes, engaging him in an intense round of flirtation which, to his surprise, he'd found himself quite enjoying. She'd eventually been lured away by someone else, though not before giving Qui-Gon another huge hug and wishing him a wonderful stay on Zantia. With the exception of that one episode, the master had gotten through most of the evening romantically unscathed. No one else had approached him in such an obviously provocative manner. Perhaps this assignment wouldn't be so trying for him after all.

Reaching down to the newest platter of food which had just been brought out, Qui-Gon picked up a piece of bright blue fruit, the likes of which he'd never seen before. The tart smell made his mouth water, taste buds preparing for delicious impact. As soon as he slipped it past his lips though, he knew he'd made a mistake. He felt his glands tighten in horror as the abundant saliva in his mouth mixed with the most repulsive flavor he'd ever tasted before in his life. Eyes watering, the Jedi master fought against the urge to gag, chewing the fruit very quickly instead. Thankfully, the two Zantians still lounging within his circle seemed intently focused on each other, paying no attention to the bizarre expressions which crossed Qui-Gon's face as he forced the revolting bit of food down his throat.

He continued to salivate profusely after swallowing as his body reacted to the acrid tang that still lingered in his mouth. Reaching for his wine glass, the master took a refreshing sip, allowing the liquid to soothe his tormented taste buds. He took another sip, and then one more, feeling slightly silly about being undone by a small, innocent-looking piece of fruit. Looking around the chamber, Qui-Gon tried to ascertain whether anyone had noticed his momentary lapse. He certainly had no wish to insult any of his hosts, though how they could possibly enjoy such dreadful-tasting food, he didn't know. He was about to breathe in relief when his gaze locked onto the one pair of eyes which was aimed in his direction.

Deep blue-green eyes, staring with all the intensity of a laser beam. One roguish brow was cocked in inquiry as the Zantian to whom those eyes belonged studied the Jedi, his expression curious.

Qui-Gon offered the young man a polite nod before breaking eye contact. He casually picked an orange piece of fruit from the platter – a kind of fruit he _did_ recognize – and proceeded to chew it leisurely as he watched the various Zantian emissaries. Several minutes later, he still felt the weight of that stare focused on him.

Glancing back towards the other side of the room, the master found himself snared once again by that incredible gaze. The young man leaned back on his pillow as he continued to watch the Jedi, an impish grin settling on his bearded face. He was dressed in black silks with a thin banding of gold on his tunic, presumably the colors of the province he represented. His gaze was keen and knowing, intelligent yet dignified, and his smile spoke of laughter respectfully held in check.

Just as Qui-Gon was planning to offer a smile before looking away once more, his world turned upside-down.

The young man winked at him.

Realization dawned even as he tore his gaze away from the young Zantian. This was the one scenario the Jedi master hadn't considered in preparation for this assignment – that he might be pursued by a man. His mind raced as he caught sight of the young man getting up out of the corner of his eye, the black of his outfit growing larger in Qui-Gon's peripheral vision until it loomed above him.

The Zantian kneeled down beside him, his smile widening as Qui-Gon turned to acknowledge him. His eyes, which now appeared more green than blue, gazed at the Jedi master with gentle amusement. "You look a bit lost, Ambassador Jinn," he expressed in a rich, cultured tenor. "Is everything all right?"

Qui-Gon blinked, mildly surprised that the young man knew him by name. "Very well, thank you," he nodded. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage...?"

"Obi-Wan Kenobi," the other man introduced, holding his hand out in greeting.

Qui-Gonr grasped the proffered hand firmly, noting instantly how strong Obi-Wan's grip was compared to that of most Zantians. The flesh of his palm was thickly callused as well, something decidedly out of place in a society where most hard labor was conducted by work droids.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance...Senator Kenobi, is it?"

The young man nodded, still holding the Jedi's hand securely. "I am a senator, yes. May I have the honor of joining you, Ambassador?"

"Of course," Qui-Gon gestured toward one of the empty pillows.

Obi-Wan lowered himself gracefully, coming to lay directly beside the Jedi master instead. He curled himself closer to the older man and ran his fingers up the front of Qui-Gon's robe. "This material seems harsh," he commented. "Is it difficult for you to wear?"

"I find it quite comfortable, actually." Qui-Gon took a deep swill of his wine while studying the young man who was practically sitting in his lap. Obi-Wan looked to be around thirty, though it was hard to tell. His shoulder-length brown hair shone with light reddish highlights under the soft illumination of the dining chamber, a rich contrast against the black of his outfit. He wasn't a large man, smaller still than many Zantians in attendance, but he held himself in a manner that suggested a strength not readily visible in his slender frame. "Which province do you hail from, Senator?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to steer the conversation to a more neutral – and safe – topic.

"Talshire," Obi-Wan answered, once more fixing his gaze on Qui-Gon's face.

Amazing. The young man's eyes had changed from green to a stormy gray color in a matter of moments. "I don't recognize that name," the Jedi admitted honestly.

Obi-Wan smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling. "I don't doubt that. Talshire is a very small province on the northern continent – the furthest one north as a matter of fact. It's not exactly the glamour spot which offworlders hear about. Most Zantians avoid it themselves."

A cold weather province then. That might explain the senator's pale skin and thick facial hair, attributes Qui-Gon hadn't seen on anyone else. "And are you pursuing a seat on the Assembly?"

"No," the young man said. "Talshire has been represented in the last four Assemblies, making it ineligible for this particular term. Since a senator from all of Zantia's provinces must be present for each election, my position here is one of a nonpartisan observer."

The master nodded thoughtfully. "Just like me."

"Yes," Obi-Wan repeated, still grinning, "just like you." He continued to gaze deeply at the older man, his stare confident but not assertive. Genuine respect and attraction radiated from him. "What planet are you from, Ambassador?"

Qui-Gon was definitely being pursued. The senator was being as tactful as a Zantain could be about it, but there was simply no question as to his intentions. "I was born on Malastare, but the Jedi Temple is situated on Coruscant. I've resided there since I was a very young boy."

"Does everyone on Malastare have eyes as beautiful as yours?"

The surprise undoubtedly showed on Qui-Gon's face, but he was quite unable to gain control of his reaction as Obi-Wan reached up and gently caressed the tiny lines nestled at the corner of his left eye, stroking them as if they were the most precious things in the galaxy. Men had flirted with him in the past, to be sure, and a few had even openly propositioned him, but none had ever done so with as much sincerity as this young man.

"I make you uncomfortable, don't I?"

The sound of the senator's voice snapped him out of his stunned stupor. "I'm not offended," Qui-Gon quickly reassured the other man, his voice remarkably steady compared to the inner turmoil he was experiencing. Despite his preference for the opposite sex, there was a certain selflessness and charm about Obi-Wan Kenobi that even Qui-Gon couldn't help but acknowledge and appreciate.

The alluring gleam in the senator's eyes dimmed then, settling down to a more courteous sparkle. He withdrew his fingers from the Jedi's face and pulled himself to a sitting position. "My deepest apologies," he offered truthfully, clasping Qui-Gon's hand in both of his own.

"No apologies are needed, Senator," the master expressed gently as he too sat up, desperately hoping that he hadn't inadvertently made a grave error.

Obi-Wan's smile was still warm and welcoming. "As you say," he conceded, reaching toward the platter of food. "Have you tried the majafruit?"

Qui-Gon chuckled when he saw the young man picking up the same fruit which had nearly incapacitated him minutes before. "Is that what it's called?" he asked sheepishly. Obi-Wan's grin, when he looked back up, was mischievous. Apparently there were no hard feelings, for which Qui-Gon was extremely grateful.

The senator popped a slice of the offensive fruit into his mouth, chewing eagerly. "I take it no one explained why most offworlders find this particular food unappealing?" When Qui-Gon shook his head, he continued, "The fruit is indigenous to Zantia. It contains an enzyme that's incompatible with the taste buds of most humanoids. To you, it probably tasted something like..." he trailed off, obviously trying to find a descriptive word that wouldn't seem uncouth in polite company.

"Yes," Qui-Gon readily agreed before he could finish, prompting both of them to laugh.

"Zantians have a larger number of taste buds compared to most species, including other humans, so we're able to enjoy this the way nature intended it. To me, it tastes very sweet."

Qui-Gon's mouth watered as he watched the other man eat another slice, wishing he could experience the tasty flavor for himself. "Are there any other dangerous fruits I should be aware of?"

Obi-Wan laughed again, a bright, hearty sound that caused those around them to smile. "I think you're safe."

The rest of the evening passed very smoothly for the Jedi master. Obi-Wan remained within his circle of pillows, and even though he couldn't completely restrain himself from flirting with the older man, he kept himself at a respectful distance, physically. For his part, Qui-Gon found himself thoroughly enjoying the younger man's company. It was a pleasure to converse with someone so well versed in Republic politics. As it turned out, Obi-Wan had actually served a term on the Senate, spending nearly two years on Coruscant. That was a remarkable accomplishment for someone so young, but as the master soon discovered, it was just one of the many things that set the young senator apart from most Zantians.

The area Obi-Wan represented was one of what were considered the 'lesser' provinces. Because it was small, sparsely populated, and prone to rather inclement weather, the people of Talshire had learned to deal with hardships to which most Zantians didn't give a passing thought. Work droids malfunctioned more often than not in the unstable clime, leaving the people to do much of their own labor – senators included. Theirs was only a partial life of leisure, the other half being spent doing what most beings in the Republic were familiar with: work. But it appeared the rugged people of the north preferred life that way, found it more satisfying.

By the time Qui-Gon had politely excused himself to retire for the evening, his opinion of the young Zantian senator had deepened to one of genuine admiration. They'd parted warmly, though Obi-Wan had offered a handshake to the Jedi rather than the embrace which seemed customary among his people. It was that, as well as the unfortunate flirtation mishap, which caused the master to lie awake long into the night. Inhaling deeply, Qui-Gon stared at the ceiling. The bed beneath him was far too soft for his liking. He'd spent the better part of an hour trying to convince himself that that was why he couldn't sleep, but in truth, he knew exactly what was bothering him. Obi-Wan hadn't personally been offended, as their lively conversations over the course of the evening had proven, but he couldn't seem to shake the possibility that his initial reaction to the senator's advances may have introduced uncertainty into his position as a political witness.

Sexual politics was a game which Qui-Gon detested, one to which he had never subscribed. Of course, the nature of sexual politics was far different here on Zantia than in the rest of the Republic. Out there, it was a cheap, selfish way to maneuver through the arena in order to achieve one's own goals. Here, on this planet, it was a way of life, a method used to ensure stability and truthful communication. Qui-Gon might have even been moved to respond to the senator's subtle offer, if only he hadn't been a man...

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, rubbing them furiously in his frustration. His sexual preference was ultimately responsible for this whole dilemma. He had absolutely nothing against love and intimacy between men. Intimate expression between consenting participants, regardless of gender or species, was something he considered very precious and beautiful. It was only when that form of expression included him and another man that things got dicey. He'd never had the desire for such an experience, had never been moved by the male form in any way. It was that bias which had caused him to freeze in such an undignified manner when Obi-Wan had approached him.

He had tried to meditate several times after he'd returned from the gathering, hoping to resolve some of the issues which wouldn't rest, but the Force had remained silent, leaving him with lingering feelings of confusion and doubt. Now, as he opened his eyes to stare once more at the decorative ceiling, he knew that trying again would be futile. Perhaps a stroll through the dome gardens instead would help to clear his mind.

Throwing back the fine layers of bedding, Qui-Gon got up and walked the length of the elegant bedroom to where he'd laid his clothing. He grabbed his robe after a moment's pause, deciding to keep his sleep pants on rather than change completely. Sliding into the article of clothing which marked his status as a Jedi, he wrapped it around himself and headed down the staircase.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Qui-Gon heard when the door to his quarters opened was the sound of splashing water. His eyebrows rose as he realized that someone was taking a swim in the large pool that was situated in the middle of the ancillary dome. It was quite late; he couldn't imagine it was common for people to be utilizing the recreational facilities at this hour.

Keeping to the shadows, which wasn't difficult given all the vegetation and the low lighting of the night cycle, the Jedi master made his way closer to he pool. As he peered around a large rock formation, he saw that a man had just exited the water on the other side...lean, muscular, and entirely nude. Even under the dim lights and across the distance of the large chamber, the identity of the late-night swimmer was unmistakable.

Senator Kenobi.

His brow furrowing, Qui-Gon's gaze wandered around the beautiful garden setting. He could easily slip back into the shadows and retreat to his quarters without the younger man seeing, but it was much better to face a problem than slide it under the rug, hoping it would resolve itself. Perhaps another conversation – and another apology – would help to ease the master's discomfort. Steeling himself, he stepped forward, moving slowly around the edge of the pool toward where the senator was drying himself with a towel.

"Ambassador! Good evening – again," Obi-Wan welcomed when he finally noticed the older man approaching. He continued to run the towel through his hair, unselfconscious of his nudity. "What a pleasant surprise; I didn't realize you were lodged in this quarter."

"Hello, Senator."

"Please, call me Obi-Wan," he insisted gently.

Qui-Gon smiled. "After sharing politics and unfriendly food, titles do seem a bit unnecessary."

Laughing softly, the younger man picked up a forest green bathrobe and slipped it on. "They do, at that. Tell me, do you ever take that off?" he asked, eyeing the master's robe. His brow arched in amused inquiry as he met the other man's gaze.

"I do, believe it or not," the older man said, glancing down at the familiar brown material that encircled him. "I simply didn't wish to change clothes before leaving my quarters."

"You hardly have to worry about that here, Qui-Gon. You're on Zantia; we're minimalists when it comes to clothing, in case you hadn't already noticed."

Chuckling, Qui-Gon nodded his head in concession. "Your point is well taken."

The two men continued to grin at each other as the moment lengthened. Unaffected by the pause in conversation, Obi-Wan took the opportunity to admire the older man's slightly disheveled appearance, allowing his gaze to drink in the long, unbound hair and the haphazard way in which the Jedi's robe had been thrown on. He had to restrain himself from staring at the generous view of Qui-Gon's right shoulder afforded to him by the loose material.

Qui-Gon shifted his weight from one leg to the other, growing slightly uncomfortable with the extended silence. "Do you often indulge in late-night swims?" he finally asked.

"Not often, no," Obi-Wan answered. "I've been here for three days, and all I've done in that time is eat, sleep, and relax. Nothing unusual for most Zantains, but I'm unused to such inactivity. My muscles were demanding a work out."

"The people of your province work hard, don't they?"

"Yes, we do. We don't exactly frown upon those who do enjoy a life of leisure; it's just not very practical for us. We're satisfied with things as they are."

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully. "A worthy philosophy."

"What has _you_ wandering about at this hour?" the senator ventured.

The older man hesitated. Obviously he was the only one of the two even remotely concerned with the events from earlier in the evening. "My bed is too soft," he finally told him. It _was_ partly the truth.

"Ahhh," Obi-Wan's expression quickly turned impish, "that's because you've no one to share it with."

The master was unable to stop himself from smiling when the senator winked at him – this time in a much more genial than suggestive manner. "And how would that help?"

"You would be too occupied to notice how soft the bed is."

Qui-Gon chuckled soundlessly at the other man's logic. He could sense desire simmering beneath the senator's polite veneer, but it was being respectfully kept in check. And as he watched Obi-Wan's grinning face with those amused, changeable eyes, it suddenly occurred to him that the younger man was indeed still offering him companionship for this night, despite their earlier miscommunication. The proposal was carefully disguised so that it could be taken any number of ways, both innocent or otherwise, but it was still there nonetheless. The chance for two people to share pleasure, to explore; to make amends and begin anew; to take a risk and embrace discovery...or to continue on as if nothing had been suggested at all.

In the end, a gentle tug from the Force made the decision for Qui-Gon. He couldn't explain it any more than he could explain how he suddenly didn't appear to feel overly disturbed at the thought of making love with this particular man standing before him. Nervous, yes...but not disturbed. Not any longer. There was something inherently right about this moment, and he knew that if he turned Obi-Wan away once more, his regret would be far more difficult to bear.

Allowing his smile to soften a bit, the master swallowed hard. "Perhaps you would be willing to aid me...in overcoming my difficulty?" How his voice had remained calm was a complete mystery.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened slightly, uncertainty crossing his features. He remained silent, absorbing the question and examining it from every possible perspective. Hope sang in his veins, making his heart pound faster.

Shame swept through Qui-Gon at the younger man's continued silence. Had he erred yet again? "I'm...terribly sorry..." he faltered, breaking eye contact and offering the senator a supplicating bow. "I must have misunderstood..."

"No."

Qui-Gon glanced back up as he heard the whisper, all thoughts of a hasty retreat disappearing.

Obi-Wan stepped forward, shaking his head slowly, whispering, "No, you didn't misunderstand." The desire he'd held back was now smoldering in his eyes. "Do you have any idea how deeply I wish to be with you?"

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to speak, only to find that his vocal chords were quite inoperative.

The younger man seemed amused by this, a radiant grin spreading across his face as he finally came to a stop directly in front of the Jedi. "No...you don't, do you?" he asked softly as one of his hands reached up to brush back the strands of Qui-Gon's loose hair. His fingers moved to caress the master's cheek, thumb brushing gently across still-parted lips.

Qui-Gon shuddered. Imperceptibly.

Obi-Wan felt it, the look in his eyes deepening. "Let me show you..."

~ * ~ * ~

Qui-Gon sank back into the soft embrace of the mattress, watching intently as his soon-to-be lover slowly crawled up the length of his body until he finally straddled Qui-Gon's slender hips. Obi-Wan's gaze hadn't left his, the sparkle in those blue-green depths hovering somewhere between affectionate and predatory. The young man still wore his robe, though he'd deftly discarded Qui-Gon's as soon as they'd entered the older man's suite.

The amused grin was still firmly planted on Obi-Wan's face as he allowed his gaze to rove over the broad expanse of the older man's chest. Each millimeter of skin, each imperfection, and each visible scar was memorized, slowly and attentively, until the master began to fidget under the scrutiny.

The young man's gaze locked with his once more, teasing without words or touch. Qui-Gon met the challenge, staring back relentlessly until he couldn't hold back his own grin. He cocked an eyebrow in inquiry, waiting.

Leaning down, Obi-Wan hovered mere inches above the master's face, his grin broadening. "When presented with such a delectable feast, it's difficult to decide just where to begin," he purred. Several damp strands of his hair freed themselves from behind his ear, swinging down to stroke Qui-Gon's cheek. With one last lingering look, the young man closed the distance between them.

His lips were soft...soft and warm and extremely gentle. For some reason, Qui-Gon hadn't been expecting that. His surprise gave way to delight when he realized how the younger man's whiskers tickled him as their lips slid together sensuously.

Sensing his partner's pleasure, Obi-Wan hummed softly and deepened the kiss, weaving both hands through the older man's hair.

Qui-Gon's arms moved of their own accord, tugging on his lover's robe until the young man lay fully outstretched on top of him. There was no lascivious grinding of hips as he'd expected though...no evidence of demanding lust in any of Obi-Wan's actions. He simply held the master gently, making love with lips and tongue until the need for air finally caused them to part.

Pulling back, Obi-Wan smiled down at Qui-Gon. Shifting slightly, he maneuvered until he was only half draped across his lover, insinuating one of his legs between the older man's in the process. He continued to caress the long, silvered strands of Qui-Gon's hair, planting soft kisses across his face.

The Jedi master took a deep breath, trying to hold embarrassment at bay. Obi-Wan's leg was shifting sensuously against him, rubbing against the material of his sleep pants. That, in itself, wasn't a problem. The fact that Qui-Gon was completely flaccid _was_. He could feel the younger man's arousal pressing firmly against his thigh, yet his own body refused to cooperate, even though he too was a willing participant.

When Obi-Wan's fingers began wandering down the smooth planes of his chest toward the waistband of his pants, Qui-Gon intercepted quickly. Grasping the younger man's hand, he lifted himself up, twisted, and pressed his lover fully onto his back, stretching both of Obi-Wan's hands above his head and holding them there in what he hoped would be seen as a playful attempt at dominance.

The senator went totally limp under the older man's influence, the look in his eyes fluctuating between amusement and something else the master couldn't immediately recognize. "Qui-Gon..."

Qui-Gon bent forward and devoured his lover's mouth before he could say anything further. The younger man responded eagerly to the kiss, moaning his encouragement as their tongues mated together passionately. With his arms immobilized, Obi-Wan tried to use one of his legs to pull Qui-Gon closer to him, but the Jedi master resisted the maneuver by turning himself until his lower body was flat against the mattress.

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan implored breathlessly when the older man broke the kiss in favor of tasting the pale flesh of his neck. "Qui-Gon, it's all right..."

The master slowed his ministrations, well aware that his extreme embarrassment was now bleeding through his shields to the point that any empathic or Force-sensitive creature within a parsec could probably sense it. He blushed fiercely, resting his forehead against the younger man's shoulder.

Finding himself no longer restrained, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around his companion. Pressing his lips close to Qui-Gon's ear, he asked, "Would you ever get upset at a lover for being so nervous they were unable to respond as they'd like?"

"No...no, I wouldn't," came the whispered answer.

"Neither would I," Obi-Wan assured him, cupping the back of his head gently. "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"I truly do wish to be here with you," Qui-Gon explained, finally lifting his head to meet the younger man's gaze.

The senator smiled. "I know."

"It's just that..."

"Shhhh," Obi-Wan interrupted, placing a finger against his lover's lips. His eyes danced with laughter. "Relax," he whispered, carefully nudging the older man until their positions were reversed, with Qui-Gon once again on his back. "Relax and let me love you."

_Easier said than done_ , the Jedi master groaned inwardly. What if his body continued to betray him, refusing to respond to the younger man's touch? Force knows he wanted to, and the fact that his desire didn't spring solely from his sense of duty was shocking to say the least. He _wanted_ to be here. With this man. This attractive, compassionate, caring man, who was now kneeling beside him, shrugging out of his bathrobe...

Qui-Gon inhaled deeply as Obi-Wan's body was revealed to him once more. Capable, muscled arms attached to broad shoulders...a finely-chiseled chest covered with a light sprinkling of dark hair... Why hadn't he noticed these things before? The man before him was absolutely beautiful – stunningly beautiful! He was also gloriously aroused, his long, thick shaft already weeping, begging to be touched.

Leaning down, Obi-Wan kissed his lover once more, slowly and passionately. "Tonight is about honest pleasure, Qui-Gon, no matter what form it takes," he said as he pulled back. "There are no expectations, no obligations...and no worries."

Grinning warmly, the senator ran his hands down Qui-Gon's chest, stopping only to rub his nipples until they pebbled obediently before continuing down to the waistband of the older man's sleep pants. Qui-Gon lifted his hips, allowing his lover to pull the material down and then off of him completely. He couldn't help the small surge of mortification that swept through him when Obi-Wan broke eye contact to regard his penis, lounging loosely against his thigh. Instead of looking discouraged though, a thoughtful look suddenly crossed the younger man's face.

He moved to lay down, shifting Qui-Gon's legs apart and lifting the left one so that he could slide sideways underneath. With one of his lover's legs resting over his waist, the senator pillowed his head on the muscular thigh of Qui-Gon's other leg. The position brought him face to face with the seemingly uninterested organ.

The Jedi master stared, amused. Was he just going to look at it?

"Hello, my bashful one," Obi-Wan cooed softly. "You don't want to come out and play, do you?" he asked, using one finger to gently pull back one side of the foreskin which completely covered the head in its relaxed state.

Qui-Gon was unable to stifle the chuckle that rippled through his chest. No one had ever spoken to his penis before. Including himself.

"Are you frightened of me?" the younger man continued, stroking the length of the flaccid member with a light touch. "No, that can't possibly be the reason. And I can't imagine _you_ have a size complex..."

The bed shook with Qui-Gon's silent laughter. He couldn't believe the other man was actually holding a conversation with his genitals. Closing his eyes, he felt the tension coiled within him finally begin to dissipate. Perhaps there was a method to this particular brand of madness after all.

Obi-Wan leaned forward and offered a feather-light kiss to the covered head while his fingers traced invisible lines across the heavy sacs nestled below. Qui-Gon's penis twitched ever so slightly at the gentle touch, causing two sets of eyes to widen, one in astonishment, the other with encouragement.

Smiling, the younger man cradled his lover's testicles in one hand, massaging softly. The master uttered an inarticulate noise and unconsciously spread his legs a bit wider. Without hesitation, Obi-Wan extended his tongue, pressing just the tip inside the small fold in Qui-Gon's foreskin to find the sensitive head hidden underneath. He gently laved at the tender slit there, his eyes widening when the penis twitched again, stronger this time.

The Jedi master drew in a shuddering breath as he felt blood rushing to his groin. Very quickly. His heart rate had practically doubled in the last few seconds, and when he glanced down to where his lover lay, he stared in awe as Obi-Wan wrapped his fingers around his rapidly swelling organ, coaxing with a combination of gentle squeezes and tugs. Force, this was really happening...

The senator grinned broadly as Qui-Gon's penis filled and lengthened inside his careful grip. The foreskin began to pull back as the shaft awakened, exposing a head already moist and painted with tiny veins. The sight made Obi-Wan's mouth water. He began to stroke the large member slowly, wanting the other man's pleasure to build gradually.

Qui-Gon's hips jolted, a strangled groan issuing from his throat as he felt his lover begin to work him in earnest. The only sound louder in his ears than his racing heartbeat was the sound of laughter, bright and filled with joy. It only took a moment for him to realize that the laughter was a wonderful combination of Obi-Wan's and his own.

Pushing himself to a sitting position – no easy task with a beautiful young man between his legs – the master reached for his lover, needing to connect further. Never breaking the rhythm he'd established with his hand, Obi-Wan sat up as well, pulling Qui-Gon into a deep kiss.

As their tongues twined together, the senator ran his thumb across the tender head of Qui-Gon's member, spreading the fluid he found there. The Jedi master hissed in ecstasy, pulling back from the kiss. He nearly bucked completely off the bed a moment later when he suddenly felt his penis engulfed in the hot, wet heat of his lover's mouth. All strength fled his arm muscles, forcing him to fall back into a recumbent position with a muffled thud. His entire body shook from Obi-Wan's enthusiastic onslaught, pleasure screaming along nerve endings long left unattended. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd been with a lover...years at best, not that his mind was being entirely cooperative at that particular moment.

A loud moan escaped his throat as the younger man moved lips and tongue over the head of his shaft, still stroking the hard length of him slowly with one hand. The touches were obviously meant to arouse rather than push him toward completion, a fact that had his slow build-up to orgasm almost bordering on pain. Gritting his teeth, Qui-Gon tried to thrust, to encourage his lover to quicken the pace, but Obi-Wan had none of it. The senator's free hand pressed gently, yet firmly, against his abdomen...a silent request to be still.

Long minutes passed as Obi-Wan delighted in the once-reluctant – and now extremely eager – column of flesh in his hand. Qui-Gon's organ was impressive, just like the rest of him, and so incredibly responsive...twitching and hardening even further under his ministrations. The older man was squirming deliciously beneath him, panting and groaning his appreciation. The sounds alone were enough to bring Obi-Wan to the verge of climax, even without any physical stimulation, but he held himself in check. Qui-Gon needed this moment, needed to let go of his uncertainty before the intimacy could progress further. He'd been very willing for this to happen between them, but the younger man was well aware of the concerns that lurked just beneath that calm, Jedi exterior. He was also well aware that this was probably Qui-Gon Jinn's first experience with a man. That alone was reason enough to proceed very carefully, though Obi-Wan had every intention of making this as wonderful an experience as possible for him.

Lips and tongue moved over Qui-Gon's aching member, moving up and down, around and around, in a maddening rhythm that left the Jedi master gasping for breath. Hot, hot warmth, engulfing and receding...unbearable suction giving way to gentle pause before the cycle began again. Being fellated had always been one of Qui-Gon's favorite sexual acts, as much for the intense pleasure as the complete and utter surrender that went with it, but this...

Caught between ecstasy and the torture of unending, unbearable stimulation, it was simply beyond words. And he was loving every moment of it...

When the heat of Obi-Wan's mouth disappeared completely, the master couldn't help but whimper in protest. His eyes flew open, a dazed plea swirling in their dark, aroused depths. Obi-Wan's face was flushed, his lips swollen from pleasuring the older man, and he met his lover's gaze with an irresistible, lopsided grin that nearly caused Qui-Gon's heart to stop.

"You are so beautiful," the young man whispered, still stroking the older man's shaft.

The words of praise shot through Qui-Gon like an electrical current, jolting his body physically. The longing and affection he saw in his lover's eyes was unmistakable, making his throat tighten. He was here, in bed, with a man...and he was allowing that man to make love to him.

A man...

And somehow it no longer mattered. The only thing that did matter was making sure Obi-Wan felt as thoroughly desired as Qui-Gon did at that very moment.

Smiling, the Jedi master reached for the younger man. Obi-Wan responded eagerly, crawling back up the length of his lover's body to settle comfortably on top of him. In a tangle of limbs and laughter they managed to wrap themselves completely around each other, a hug that included arms and well as legs. As their lips met for a deep, mindblowing kiss, their hips began to roll together, a sweet give and take that sent teasing shockwaves of pleasure through both of them.

The intensity of their lovemaking mounted dramatically as Obi-Wan's passion began to take over. After thoroughly plundering his lover's mouth, the younger man pulled away and dove for the tender skin of Qui-Gon's neck. Nipping and sucking playfully while his hips ground mercilessly against the other man's, he quickly reduced the Jedi master to incoherency.

Qui-Gon gasped as his lover latched onto a particularly sensitive spot just below his right ear, biting down until the pleasure blended seamlessly with pain. His entire body shuddered with the exquisite feel of it. Grabbing the soft globes of Obi-Wan's ass with both hands, Qui-Gon pressed his lover's hips down as he himself surged upward, their shafts sliding together demandingly.

Obi-Wan immediately let go of his hold on Qui-Gon's neck, a long, impassioned groan slipping past his lips and reverberating through their sweat-soaked layers of flesh. Untangling himself from their embrace, his hands found purchase on the mattress where he lifted himself up and began thrusting firmly against the older man. Obi-Wan's eyes were wild with desire as he stared down at Qui-Gon, a bright sea-green color circling his dilated pupils. His hair spilled in delightful abandon around his face, and the wanton expression he wore was nearly enough to make Qui-Gon come right then and there.

The bed shook rhythmically with Obi-Wan's strenuous movements while the air around them was colored with the sounds of their growing pleasure. The Jedi master matched each thrust with one of his own, adding to the rapturous sensations building between them. He knew things wouldn't last very long at this rate. Perhaps that's what the younger man had in mind, but Qui-Gon had other plans. He wanted his turn to torture the beautiful man above him, to make him quiver and moan just as Obi-Wan had done to him.

Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around his lover and, using a slight touch of the Force, flipped them both over. Now he was the one staring down into those surprised, yet elated, eyes. Before Obi-Wan could react, Qui-Gon shifted, bending forward to capture a nipple between his lips. The reaction he got from this unexpected move was more than he could have ever hoped for.

"Oh, yes!" Obi-Wan sobbed, arching his back sharply. He shuddered and keened softly as Qui-Gon proceeded to tease the tiny nub with a skilled tongue. Obviously he was extremely sensitive here, an unforeseen but welcome discovery. Taking full advantage of his position, the master relentlessly teased both of his lover's nipples. Obi-Wan writhed shamelessly, the confident, passionate young man reduced to a puddle of trembling flesh. His hands wandered aimlessly over Qui-Gon's arms and shoulders, needing to touch, but not demanding more than what the older man was already offering.

When Qui-Gon reached between them, his large hand finding and cradling his lover's penis, Obi-Wan's body practically lifted off the bed. A startled shout and the desperate scrabbling of both the senator's hands brought him out of his determined haze.

Obi-Wan was panting, squirming away from the more intimate touch that his lover had offered. "Too close," he gasped, a sheepish smile settling on his face. "I'm too close..."

The Jedi master chuckled. Indeed, when he glanced down, he found Obi-Wan's shaft nearly purple with need, straining proudly away from that slim body and leaking profusely on top of it all. Had he managed one stroke, the younger man would probably have climaxed instantly. And it would have been his touch that prompted it... _his_ touch. He had brought Obi-Wan to this moment, to this level of arousal... The thought made his head spin.

The senator reached for him then, pulling him up for another kiss, this one gentle and far less demanding. When they parted, Obi-Wan was still trying to catch his breath. He stared deeply into Qui-Gon's eyes before finally whispering, "Will you be inside me, Qui-Gon?"

Blue eyes blinked in astonishment. Had he heard correctly?

Laughing softly, Obi-Wan brushed back his lover's hair. His eyes sparkled. "Please?" he implored. "I want to feel you."

"I don't want to hurt you..."

The senator shook his head, his smile one of complete assurance. "You won't."

A rush of adrenaline flooded Qui-Gon's system at the thought of being buried deep inside the young man. His member throbbed in encouragement, obviously eager for just such an experience, but this was entirely out of his realm. He understood the basic mechanics, of course, but beyond that, he was in uncharted territory.

"We don't have to do this if you feel too uncomfortable," Obi-Wan soothed, giving Qui-Gon's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Qui-Gon met his gaze evenly. "I'm just not certain...what..." he trailed off, glancing down toward his lover's genitals. His face was burning, he could tell. He hadn't felt this unsure of himself since his very first sexual encounter many decades ago.

The senator had to fight to keep himself from grinning. Qui-Gon's embarrassment was utterly charming, not to mention completely understandable. He brushed gentle fingers across the older man's cheek. "I'll guide you. If you wish..."

Qui-Gon looked back up, drinking in the sincere look in his lover's eyes. Slowly, he smiled, an action mirrored instantly by the other man, who then proceeded to plant an enthusiastic kiss on Qui-Gon's lips.

A bottle of oil was quickly procured from a drawer in the bedside night stand, picked from an assortment of complimentary massage and sexual aids which were made readily available to all guests. Obi-Wan laid back down, but remained facing Qui-Gon, placing a pillow beneath his hips. He bit his lip to keep from chuckling as he watched the older man fumble with the bottle, nerves transforming those strong, deft fingers into the epitome of clumsiness.

Spreading his legs and pulling them up close to his body, the younger man did just as he'd promised, hands guiding those of his lover while he offered soft words of encouragement. Qui-Gon watched in wonder as his slow, careful preparation caused the senator to writhe deliciously. He listened to every gasp and every moan, every breath caught on a sigh with rapt attention, cherishing the fact that he could give another being such pleasure. And when his fingers found the hidden gland buried deep inside, heard the impassioned wail his touch inspired, it seemed that nothing had ever felt more right.

Qui-Gon continued to slide his fingers in and out, spreading the lubricant until Obi-Wan begged him to complete their union...and even then he ignored the plea in favor of hearing more of those lovely sounds issue from his lover's throat. The young man was practically in tears when he finally positioned himself and began to slide inside the hot tightness, one slow millimeter at a time.

Bracing himself on shaky arms, Qui-Gon leaned over his lover's body, blue eyes locked with Obi-Wan's as he pressed forward into the welcoming heat. After the head of his member cleared the last ring of muscle, he began sinking in quite easily. Obi-Wan's delighted laughter quickly turned into a surprised shout that startled the older man. Suddenly the senator was bucking furiously beneath him, eyes clamping shut as he cried out.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon began to pull himself out.

"Oh...no!" the young man gasped loudly, grabbing his lover's hips to hold him steady. "Never had anyone...as large as you," he panted in between bursts of quiet laughter.

Judging by Obi-Wan's reaction, and the fact that he was rocking his hips, deliberately trying to impale himself further on Qui-Gon's member, it didn't take long for the master to realize that it hadn't been pain that had prompted the younger man's reaction. Grinning, he began to press deeper, pausing when his lover's body jolted once more.

"Oh, gods, yes!" Obi-Wan howled, grabbing onto Qui-Gon's arms and thrusting against him. "You're right _there_...every time!"

The time for teasing long past, the Jedi master took his lover's lead. They moved together with determination, rocking and grinding, moaning and even laughing as the impulse presented itself. Qui-Gon tried to hold himself up with one arm while his other hand reached for Obi-Wan's thick shaft, but he quickly lost his balance, unused to the awkward position. The younger man offered a reassuring smile before taking himself in hand, stroking in time to his lover's movements.

It wasn't long before both men were hovering on the edge. Arms giving out, Qui-Gon sank to his elbows. Obi-Wan pulled the older man's head all the way down, stealing a few kisses and then holding him close, cheek to cheek, while their hips snapped together feverishly.

A startled whimper was the only warning the Jedi master got before the body beneath him stiffened sharply, a hoarse cry slicing through the air. Obi-Wan began shuddering uncontrollably, the hot warmth of his pleasure bathing Qui-Gon's chest. The older man's member was squeezed mercilessly, milked over and over until he couldn't hold back his own release.

Bright blues and greens exploded behind closed eyelids as Qui-Gon roared. He jerked and shuddered mindlessly, embracing the unbearable pleasure that surged through him. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before...the tight, tight heat, the strength of the lover hanging onto him...the way his orgasm seemed to last an eternity, stretching on and on until each and every cell in his body had been completely fused, leaving nothing behind but a trembling mass of over-sensitized nerve endings that continued to quiver long after the strength had bled from his body.

Gasping for breath, the Jedi master had the sudden urge to cry as he rested limply against his lover. And he did just that, unable to stop the tears that streaked down his face, blurring his vision as he stared helplessly at the twisted sheet spread out underneath both of them. The part of Qui-Gon's mind that was still coherent marveled at the tremendous release of Force-energy that had accompanied the climax of their lovemaking, but its significance wouldn't register until much, much later...

For now, the lovers descended to blissful unconsciousness, deep and dreamless.


	4. Chapter 4

He knew something had changed the moment awareness asserted itself against the tide of receding sleep. There was a gentle tug somewhere at the back of his consciousness, almost imperceptible, but his Jedi training allowed him to perceive it immediately. As to what, exactly, it was though...

Qui-Gon Jinn took a slow, deep breath, his senses taking inventory automatically. He smelled something faintly bitter, the odor mixed with another, more earthy aroma. Cautiously opening his eyes, he registered the same decorative ceiling he'd been staring at for hours the night before.

The night before...

Snapping fully awake, the Jedi master took another breath, finally recognizing the unusual odors for what they were. Tilting his head up, he noted the dried splashes of semen on his chest...and realized that a few of the thick globules had solidified in the long strands of his hair too. The fingers of his right hand felt sticky and his nose wrinkled as he realized that neither of them had even attempted to wash following their rather strenuous round of lovemaking.

A sudden tingle at the edge of his perception told Qui-Gon he was being watched.

Obi-Wan.

Glancing to his right, he found the senator wrapped comfortably around one of the larger pillows that had been on the bed, laying with his cheek resting against one of his arms. The younger man's hair was delightfully mussed and he was grinning lazily at the man who had ridden him so pleasurably mere hours before. His eyes – now a calm, bright blue – radiated utter satisfaction.

"Good morning," Obi-Wan greeted. His voice, though still rough from slumber, was nothing less than a sensual purr.

The sound caused all of Qui-Gon's nerve endings to stir, sending a sharp surge of warmth straight to his groin. His breath hitched at the sensation as he continued to gaze at his lover. Whatever was going on, whatever it was that he sensed peripherally, had everything to do with the slender Zantian currently regarding him with undisguised admiration. While highly arousing, the thought also disturbed him. Deeply.

Obi-Wan shifted, stretching luxuriously before propping himself up on one elbow. His other hand brushed absently through his hair, definitely a honey-brown color in the ambient light that streamed in from the large bedside window. The smile he wore grew broader as he studied the older man. "You, my dear Ambassador Jinn, look thoroughly debauched," he teased, winking.

Qui-Gon swallowed thickly, trying to resist the siren lure of the other man's tone. "Good morning," he murmured belatedly. Breaking eye contact with visible difficulty, he sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed where he sat for a moment, trying to get his bearings. Something was definitely going on, though he doubted the younger man was aware of it. The subconscious anomaly he'd sensed was now clearly registering through the Force like a bright beacon against a black background, and it was inexorably drawing their lifeforces towards one another. Denial swept through him, blocking trains of thought before they even got started.

The feel of a warm hand, and then a warm, wet mouth, on his back made Qui-Gon shiver, the tactile contact causing a veritable flare of raw need to shoot through him. He took a deep breath, searching frantically for his center. Obi-Wan's beard tickled him as the younger man kissed his way down his spine.

"Please don't do that," the master requested softly. This was all wrong...

"Why not?" Obi-Wan whispered playfully against his skin, ignoring the mild plea.

"I smell like a bantha." It was a lame excuse, but it was definitely truthful.

The senator's hand was already working its way along his hip, poised to move into more provocative territory. "You think that offends me?" he chuckled, the warm puff of air igniting even more nerve endings along the older man's back.

With unparalleled control, Qui-Gon stood up, disengaging himself from the young man, and walked toward the 'fresher. When he glanced back at the bed, he found that Obi-Wan had sprawled onto his back with his head spilling over the side of the mattress, watching his retreat with much amusement. Even upside-down, Obi-Wan's face sported a brilliant smile. One of his hands was slowly massaging the growing bulge at his groin through the sheets while the other hung loosely off the bed in sensual abandon.

"Would you like to see how offended I am?" he asked suggestively.

Qui-Gon fought against the lump in his throat. He was deeply shaken, to the point of trembling physically. "I'm very sorry," he whispered to Obi-Wan before turning and disappearing into the 'fresher.

It wasn't until the door swished shut that Obi-Wan realized something was truly wrong, that Qui-Gon wasn't simply trying to adjust to what had happened the night before. The smile faded from his face as he continued to stare after the Jedi master and his hand fell away from where he'd been stroking himself to lay limply against the bed. He sat up slowly, his brow furrowing with concern.

After a moment's hesitation, he threw back the sheets and bounced off the bed, padding quickly to the 'fresher door. "Qui-Gon?" he called anxiously.

The sound of running water was his only reply...that and the distinct feeling somewhere in the back of his mind that something profound had happened between them. Resting his head against the door, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, wondering whether that something would turn out to be good or bad.

~ * ~ * ~

When Qui-Gon emerged from his shower, he found a work droid diligently replacing the bed linens. Obi-Wan was nowhere to be seen. Closing his eyes against the rush of shame that swept through him over his earlier behavior, he unconsciously pulled his bathrobe tighter around himself and sank to his knees. He desperately needed to meditate, to sort through the myriad of troubling thoughts and emotions that assaulted him. Inhaling a long, shaky breath, he attempted to calm his mind.

_There is no emotion; there is peace._

The words, so familiar to him, offered little comfort as the cool blankness behind closed lids was replaced by a vivid picture of a smiling Obi-Wan Kenobi. Qui-Gon wrestled the image back into the depths of his consciousness, years of training instantly taking over.

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge._

The beginnings of a headache sprang to life in the spot directly between his eyes. Reaching up, he pinched the bridge of his nose impatiently.

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge,_ he repeated silently, his agitation growing as steadily as the pain in his head. The soothing presence of the Force was absent, its guiding voice as silent now as it had been the night before.

_There is no passion; there is serenity._

The small, pulsing light at the edge of his awareness suddenly flared brightly, growing slightly in size. That was accompanied by a rather forceful mental tug. Grimacing at the physical discomfort as well as the unavoidable conclusion that, until now, he'd steadfastly ignored, Qui-Gon rubbed his face with trembling hands.

"A bond," he whispered incredulously, giving up yet another failed attempt at meditation. "How the Force could this have happened?"

The sound of the door chime prevented further speculation on this most disturbing issue. Qui-Gon got to his feet and started for his travel bag before remembering that nobody would bat an eyelash at seeing him in just a bathrobe. Making his way slowly down the steps, he called out his permission to enter.

Tonneman stepped through the doorway carrying a large covered tray. He greeted the Jedi with a broad smile, his voice quiet and sure. "Good morning, Master Jinn. I have first meal here for you," he spoke, setting the tray down on an ornately carved table.

"First meal?" Qui-Gon queried, surprised. He was scheduled to attended a public breakfast each morning of his stay on Zantia.

"It's well past the fifth hour of ascension. First meal celebrations concluded more than an hour ago."

It was already five hours past sunrise? The surprise and embarrassment must have registered on Qui-Gon's face because Tonneman quickly held up his hands in a placating gesture. "Attendance at meals is not a requirement for visiting emissaries. There is no rush for you to awaken in the morning; I should have clarified that point yesterday."

The master looked sheepish. "I don't normally sleep this late."

"There are reasons why business on Zantia doesn't begin until after zenith," Tonneman reassured him, his smile widening. "I doubt you were the only one who slept in."

The obvious innuendo in the older man's words and tone drew a chuckle from Qui-Gon. His mirth quickly turned to further embarrassment, however, when Tonneman continued to speak.

"Senator Kenobi wished me to pass along his regrets that he could not stay longer this morning. He was called away on urgent business, but said that he would see you at the opening discussions this afternoon."

The Jedi master couldn't remember the last time he'd been flustered so many times in a single rotation. As he felt his face redden once more, he considered the fact that he might just be setting some kind of record here. "Thank you for relaying the message," he said softly as he struggled to regain control of his reaction.

For his part, Tonneman appeared completely unaffected by Qui-Gon's embarrassment – which he could surely sense – or the fact that the young senator had spent the night with him. He simply nodded politely and moved to uncover the master's breakfast. "The delegates won't be converging for a few hours yet; I hope you enjoy the rest of your morning, Master Jinn," he smiled, offering a slight bow before taking his leave.

Qui-Gon stared at the delectable display of food laid out before him, wincing as his head began to throb even more painfully. This situation was getting very, very complicated...

~ * ~ * ~

The assembly hall was alive with vivid colors and the pleasant scent of iauna flowers, which hung beside each entrance in beautifully decorated pots. The Zantians appreciated nature far more than most civilized societies, allowing all living things to thrive even in the most heavily populated areas. The overwhelming presence of the Living Force was not a comfort to Qui-Gon on this day, however. Sitting in one of the areas designated for non-active participants, the Jedi master rubbed at his temples roughly. His headache had grown worse over the last few hours, the medication he'd taken not even making a dent in the incessant pain.

A soft chime rang through the cavernous room, alerting those present that the conference would be under way shortly. Opening his eyes, the master drank in the splendid array of colors that surrounded him. The delegates were dressed in their finest regalia - all silk, of course. As they had the night before, each senator wore the colors of his or her province, but the outfits were far more official this time around. Dress silks, Qui-Gon reflected silently. His simple, earth-tone homespuns once again proved to be the dull spot amid brilliant hues, and that fit his mood completely.

Not only was he extremely shocked and concerned over the current development, he'd also treated Obi-Wan rudely earlier that morning, a point which had him feeling rather angry with himself. The senator was hardly responsible for the bond which now pulsed between them, and even in his disquietude, Qui-Gon should have shown the younger man more respect than he had.

A sharp mental tug alerted the Jedi master that the object of his thoughts had just entered the chamber. He felt his headache begin to fade as he caught sight of Senator Kenobi standing just inside one of the entrances. The young man looked absolutely magnificent in his provincial attire, a dazzling combination of black and gold that would have been finery fit for a king on other planets. A black, floor-length cape added the finishing touch to his stately appearance, the garment billowing majestically as Obi-Wan moved to embrace a fellow diplomat in greeting. That thick honey-brown hair was now well-groomed, a far cry from the delicious tangle it had been in when he'd first awakened. Qui-Gon's fingers twitched as he remembered what it had felt like to run them through that beautiful mane...

Taking a deep breath, the master tore his gaze away from the senator, though the afterimage remained burned into his retinae. His groin had begun to tighten, disobedient flesh thickening against his will, but he simply covered the evidence with his robe and ignored the discomfort. He focused his gaze on the members of the current Zantian Assembly who were gathering on the primary tier below. It was a massive governing body for one planet – more than fifty seats strong. There were no subsidiary councils or senates here – just the Assembly. All measures began and ended with them and there was no one person who dominated political power. Each Assembly senator was a representative of the people of his or her particular province, and all worked together for the common good despite the differing backgrounds and regions from which they came. Zantia wasn't without its problems, but they definitely paled in comparison to the corruption with which most of the galaxy was familiar.

Qui-Gon's heart thudded as a black-clad figure drew closer in his peripheral vision. He didn't need to look up to know who it was, but he did so anyway in polite acknowledgment. Guarded blue-green eyes met his own as Obi-Wan came to a stop beside him.

"May I join you?" he inquired softly.

The Jedi master felt the senator's keen scrutiny ripple across his senses. He was being carefully observed – far more so than anyone had thus far. Every reaction, every move he made, no matter how minute, was being analyzed in a way that only an empath – or diplomat – would. Merge the two together into a single human being, and Qui-Gon was certain that Obi-Wan was well aware of his inner turmoil, despite the solid layers of mental shielding that separated them. But far be it for him to be any more rude to the younger man than he already had been. Smiling slightly, Qui-Gon nodded. "Of course."

Finally mustering the courage he needed to apologize, the master started to speak, only to find that Obi-Wan began talking at the same time, their voices mingling and then falling silent as each stared at the other in amusement.

"I'm very sorry," Qui-Gon continued before the other man could voice his thoughts. "My behavior this morning was unwarranted. I ask your forgiveness."

The senator shook his head. "No apologies are necessary." He fell silent then, his expression clouding with visible concern. "If I've done anything to hurt you, Qui-Gon..." he continued, the worry extending all the way to those changeable eyes. Unable to curb his culture's natural inclination for tactile reassurance, he reached out to the older man, wrapping a warm hand around the master's forearm.

A sharp current of Force energy snapped through them at the contact, making their skin tingle. Obi-Wan's eyes widened, his expression one of pure shock as he quickly snatched his hand back. Qui-Gon imagined he probably had a similar expression on his own face.

Gradually, both men became aware of the hushed silence that had fallen upon the assembly chamber. Glancing around, Qui-Gon met the worried stares of more than a few Zantian delegates. They were in a room filled with empathic beings; it stood to reason that the others would be acutely aware of the sudden anxiety and confusion radiating from them.

"Qui-Gon?" Even that slight exhalation of whispered breath sounded bewildered to the older man's ears.

Tonneman was beside them in an instant, his presence calming as he bent down from behind their chairs. "Is everything all right?" he inquired quietly, automatically placing a comforting hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Qui-Gon could tell the elder Zantian wanted to touch him as well, but he held back respectfully.

The senator blinked, confidence radiating from him as he gained control of his senses. Turning his head slightly, he grinned and reached up to squeeze the elder's hand. "Yes, thank you."

Nodding, Tonneman glanced anxiously at Qui-Gon before backing away politely. The master met his gaze with a reassuring smile of his own, trying to smooth over the situation before any further questions were asked. When he finally turned his attention toward the young man sitting beside him, he found Obi-Wan regarding him with carefully disguised apprehension.

"We need to talk."

Qui-Gon swallowed thickly. Yes, they did need to talk; that was unavoidable now. Another chime rang through the room before he could respond. All he could do was nod his head in agreement as one of the Assembly members began to speak, her rich voice echoing through the chamber as she called the conference to order. Left with little to do but observe the proceedings and ponder upon the unexpected situation that had presented itself, the Jedi master settled in for one of the longest afternoons of his life.


	5. Chapter 5

The sound of their footsteps seemed extremely loud as Qui-Gon followed Obi-Wan through an empty corridor. The first round of deliberations had barely ended when the senator had stood up, murmuring, 'This way' to the Jedi master. Although the words had been spoken softly, his tone had brooked no argument. Qui-Gon had felt the younger man's confusion and anger simmering throughout the afternoon, so his abrupt manner hadn't come as any surprise.

Obi-Wan slowed as they neared one of the private conference rooms. Pulling a bar key from his pocket, the senator swiftly slid it into the authentication panel and then tapped a few buttons. The door opened instantly. Once inside, the younger man walked slowly to the large window that overlooked one of the courtyards and gazed out in silence.

Jedi diplomats were taught how to gauge an individual through several means; one of those was by carefully observing how someone handled anger. The senator was very upset – of that there was no doubt – but he nevertheless remained calm. Qui-Gon waited patiently for Obi-Wan to gather his thoughts.

When Obi-Wan finally turned around, he glared at the Jedi master, his expression surprisingly accusatory. "I had a great deal of contact with the Jedi during my time on Coruscant, but I am unaware of the true extent of their powers. Are you attempting to influence me?"

Qui-Gon blinked in surprise, shaking his head emphatically at the direct question. "No..."

"Disrupt the conference?"

"Neither I nor the Senate would have reason to do that."

"What then?" the younger man insisted forcefully, stepping toward him. "You can't tell me nothing has happened. First, I awaken to a coldly indifferent bed partner who only hours before had eagerly shared one of the most incredibly passionate evenings of my life with me. Then I develop a terrible headache after leaving your suite – a headache which miraculously disappears when I enter the assembly chamber where you are already seated. And then I touch your arm..."

"I promise you that I've done nothing," Qui-Gon assured him. Under normal circumstances, he would have planted a Force-suggestion into his words to help assuage the other man, but in this case that would most likely have aroused more suspicion.

Obi-Wan's gaze intensified. "Then tell me what _is_ going on. If I were following protocol, I would have reported this _incident_ to the authorities already, but I'm giving you the chance to explain yourself before I do so."

"It's a bond..." The words were out of Qui-Gon's mouth before he could even think of a more diplomatic way to reveal their predicament.

"What?"

Qui-Gon inhaled deeply, trying to get a handle on his own turbulent emotions. "A Force bond," he clarified. "I've no control over it..."

The senator's demeanor changed instantly, the incensed expression on his face melting away. "Force bond?" Apparently he was at least somewhat familiar with the concept if Qui-Gon was reading the tone of his voice correctly.

Lowering his gaze, the Jedi master stared blankly at the top of the conference table. "Yes, though I've never heard of the Force bonding a Jedi to a non-Force-sensitive in this manner before."

"But I am Force-sensitive," Obi-Wan announced plainly.

Blue eyes locked onto the younger man. "You are?" Why hadn't he sensed that?

"I was tested as a child, but apparently my connection with the Force wasn't quite strong enough to warrant being trained as a Jedi. They said I was borderline."

That would certainly explain a great deal. Overwhelmed, Qui-Gon pulled one of the chairs out and sank down heavily. Coming to sit beside him, Obi-Wan reached out hesitantly, wrapping his fingers around the master's muscled forearm once again. The connection between them sprang to life, sending an intense Force-current shooting through their bodies. The tingling sensation which had previously only been felt for a moment now raced down their arms to engulf the rest of their bodies, causing a delicious stir deep inside both of them. The bond was strengthening, gathering substance from the physical contact...

Gently pulling his arm back, the Jedi master glanced at his companion. The sight of the younger man was nearly his undoing. Obi-Wan's eyes glistened with tears and his lips were parted slightly as he stared at the older man with absolute wonder.

"Qui-Gon," he whispered, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his mouth. "This is..." Words failed him for a moment as he struggled with the magnitude of the revelation. "This is incredible...wonderful..." he managed to choke out. His expression changed again then, mortification replacing newfound joy. "Oh, Qui-Gon, I am so sorry for my allegations..."

The Jedi master made a small dismissive gesture with his hand, breaking eye contact. "Your vexation was understandable." This scene was becoming difficult to handle. His body was practically singing with awareness, and the unconscious lure of Obi-Wan's presence was so strong that it was nearly unbearable. Only his staunch discipline prevented him from succumbing, from taking the younger man into his arms and making love to him right then and there.

The feel of the senator's hand caressing the back of his head caused Qui-Gon to start. A set of moist lips immediately pressed against his temple. "Shhhh." Warm breath in his ear. "I'm so delighted I can barely see straight. My beautiful Qui-Gon..."

Closing his eyes against the rush of pure need that nearly consumed him, the older man pushed his chair back and stood. Obi-Wan followed his movements, the young man's arms still wrapped around his neck, holding him close while a string of whispered endearments tickled his ear. The bond was demanding fulfillment, tuning their bodies so closely together that the physical yearnings were almost impossible to ignore. And Obi-Wan wasn't resisting at all; it was obvious he welcomed the bond...welcomed Qui-Gon...

Summoning willpower he didn't even realize he possessed, the Jedi master gently but firmly untangled himself from the senator's embrace and stepped back out of reach. He met Obi-Wan's shocked gaze reluctantly, knowing that he would have to hurt the young man.

"Qui-Gon?"

"There can be no bond between us, Obi-Wan." His tongue was numb as he spoke, the words dropping heavily from his mouth.

A hint of desperation crossed the senator's changeable eyes. "I don't understand. You said you had no control over the bond."

"I don't, but this cannot be. It will dissipate naturally if it is not allowed to progress," Qui-Gon explained, shifting his gaze away from the horrified look on Obi-Wan's face. The Temple healers forged temporary bonds all the time to help aid the seriously injured; those bonds eventually faded into the recesses of the Force when the patients recovered. Yes...this one would fade too. It had to.

Obi-Wan drew in a shaky breath. He'd experienced so many different emotions in the last twelve hours that his mind was reeling. Panic and fear were the last of those, and they were leaving a horrible feeling in his stomach. "You don't want this bond?" he asked quietly.

"I am a Jedi," Qui-Gon asserted. "I cannot be bound in this way."

"Are Force bonds forbidden among the Jedi?"

The older man hesitated before answering, "No, but–"

"But what?" Obi-Wan's voice had gained amplitude, distress coloring his tone. "I don't understand, Qui-Gon; you're not making sense."

"This cannot be," Qui-Gon hissed. "It's a mistake!" He was trying in vain to control himself while holding the demands of the bond at bay, but it was a losing battle. He needed to get away, needed to put as much distance between him and this beautiful young man as he could...

Chills ran down Obi-Wan's spine. This couldn't be happening. Too much had changed in too short an amount of time. When Qui-Gon moved, he instinctively backed away, watching through a sheen of tears as the master flew past him and exited the conference room without saying another word.

He was still stepping backwards, his body moving without purpose, when the pain erupted between his eyes. Cradling his head in his hands, Obi-Wan sank down against the wall behind him, his teeth gritting against the intensity of the renewed headache. Pain and misery enveloped him, leaving behind only the remnants of a man who had once understood the meaning of happiness.

~ * ~ * ~

_Liar..._

The word echoed through his mind incessantly, though whether it was his own voice whispering or that of the Force, Qui-Gon couldn't tell. The fingers of one hand were clamped firmly against his temples, trying to massage away the fierce headache that was driving invisible spikes into his head. The pain was excruciating, but he kept moving...wandering down endless corridors in search of some refuge which would shield him from this unbearable burden. He desperately needed to meditate, to seek answers. Yes, answers...

He staggered out an open doorway, the lush smell of living things wrapping around him like a warm blanket. A courtyard! Stopping, the master sank to his knees, grateful for the feel of the thick grass beneath him. Ignoring the searing pain in his head, he concentrated on opening himself, ready to interpret the currents of the Living Force. Only the Force could answer all the impossible questions that stirred restlessly inside of him, but his efforts were met with the same response he'd received each time he'd tried to meditate since arriving...

Resounding silence.

_WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?_ he pleaded silently even as he fought to contain the powerful emotions he was experiencing. His shields were nothing more than tatters by now, ripped apart under the strain of trying to control so many things that were _beyond_ his control. _Why? Why me...why now..._

"Answer me!" Qui-Gon demanded aloud, his voice startling a flock of brightly-colored birds from a nearby tree. Why was the Force being silent? Why wasn't it answering him? A hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality. Glassy blue eyes turned to gaze into a pair of concerned browns...

"Master Jinn?" Tonneman asked softly. His other arm came up to gently squeeze Qui-Gon's arm. The contact was grating to the master; his body didn't want this man's touch, but he endured it all the same. "Why don't we go inside," the elder's kind voice soothed.

Swallowing listlessly, the Jedi master allowed himself to be led indoors. The corridors turned into dark tunnels as his mind struggled against a growing sense of helplessness. Then the world began to blur, images blending together in a surreal twist that left Qui-Gon Jinn unaware of where he was or what was happening. Snippets of conversations faded in and out as he was helped onto a soft surface somewhere.

"...nothing...wrong, physically..."

"...resting as well..."

A coolness invaded the master's system then, wrapping around his tortured nerves and easing him away from all the pain and confusion.

"...must contact the Jedi Council..."

Those final words caused a jolt of anxiety to surge through him, but before he could react, before he could voice his objection to whomever was speaking, the darkness of blessed unconsciousness overtook him, leaving the thought unspoken.

~ * ~ * ~

Obi-Wan Kenobi stared miserably at the large man who lay unconscious on the bed. This Force bond felt incredibly right to him. So many things made sense now that he knew what the driving force was behind the headaches and the intense affection he'd developed for the other man in so short a time. But Qui-Gon's response to the whole thing clouded any feelings of joy the senator may have felt in being the recipient of such a blessing. 

Qui-Gon didn't want this bond. He didn't want Obi-Wan.

Inhaling deeply, the young man considered his feelings. Yes, his attraction to the master had probably been at least partially Force-induced, but that didn't matter one iota to him. He loved Qui-Gon Jinn – deeply, passionately, and without reserve. The thought of spending the rest of his life without him made his stomach twist into a massive knot. How would he cope? How would he be able to function, to continue on with his life if Qui-Gon left and didn't look back? The physical pain of their separation would be nothing compared to the emotional torment Obi-Wan would have to endure.

Stepping forward, the senator knelt down beside the bed, folding his arms atop the soft covers. Resting his head against one of his arms, he gazed in anguish at the regal face of the master. His beautiful, noble features were smoothed in sleep. But was he sleeping in peace, or was the turmoil of the circumstances invading his dreams as well?

Obi-Wan resisted the urge to touch his reluctant bondmate. It wasn't easy; the bond's demand for contact of some kind was very strong, but he wouldn't take advantage of Qui-Gon like that. His touch wouldn't be welcome if the master was awake; of that he was certain.

Tonneman's presence grew stronger in Obi-Wan's field of perception then. The elder Zantian approached quietly, placing comforting hands on the senator's shoulders. Normally, Obi-Wan would have relished in that kind of support, but the touch set his nerve endings on edge. The bond was being relentless in that respect – the touch of anyone but Qui-Gon felt wrong to him. Suppressing the urge to pull away from the elder, the senator glanced up at him. Tonneman's eyes were pained, filled with sympathy. Releasing his hold on Obi-Wan's shoulders, he motioned for the young man to follow him downstairs. Casting one last look at the sleeping form of Qui-Gon Jinn, the senator stood and walked away.

There were many people gathered in the main room of the Jedi master's suite, diplomatic officials as well as medical personnel. The late afternoon session of the conference had been postponed in light of the situation; deliberations could not continue without full representation. Another senator from Talshire province could be summoned easily enough, but another Republic representative would take some time in arriving. There were no harsh feelings because of this though; the health and well being of the two men was far more important to everyone involved than having the election proceedings continue on schedule.

Obi-Wan scanned the concerned faces numbly, his thoughts still back upstairs with the man he loved. Many stepped forward to embrace him, wrapping him in cocoons of warmth that should have offered some measure of comfort. But they didn't. The warmth of their touches felt distant, as if it was incapable of penetrating beneath the surface of his skin where he needed it most. He couldn't even bring himself to return their hugs. It felt all wrong.

"Senator," Tonneman spoke quietly, brushing the young man's hair back from his face. "There is someone here who would like to see you." He led Obi-Wan forward, through the crowd of people who continued to to offer tactile reassurance, unaware that their efforts were in vain.

A frail looking elder gentleman approached them both from the other side of the room. He was much older than Tonneman, with fine, white hair and hands that were slightly gnarled from old age. He smiled gently at the younger man. "Hello Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said, his voice calm. "I am Doctor Kavaali from Onaru province."

The senator blinked. He'd heard that name before, but its significance was lost on him at the moment.

"The Jedi Council have asked me to help you and Master Jinn in any way that I can," Kavaali continued. "May I share your feelings?"

The request wasn't an uncommon one. Doctors were trained to hone their empathic abilities, to utilize them in a far greater capacity than normal citizens. Psychological assessment often went hand in hand with the treatment of physical ailments on Zantia.

Obi-Wan nodded absently as he took a seat beside the old man, though he knew in his heart there was nothing anyone could do for them. Whatever the future held for both men, it would all begin and end only with them, for better or worse.


	6. Chapter 6

Qui-Gon ascended to consciousness slowly and with some difficulty. The pain he remembered feeling was still there, but it hovered at the very edge of his awareness, apparently subdued somehow.

He moved his legs, stretching them thoroughly as he finally awakened, leaving the last gray layers of sleep behind. It felt like there was a coating of sand on his eyes as he blinked them open. Fingers still heavy from prolonged inactivity lifted to rub them, pressing again and again until he saw bright sparkles of light erupt behind his closed lids.

He froze as his memory suddenly reasserted itself with a vengeance, all the distress and uncertainty flooding back in one large wave of unwanted agony. The bond...

"Master Jinn?"

The voice startled him. He opened his eyes warily, unsure of what to expect. The face that stared back at him seemed kindly enough, even if he didn't recognize the old man.

"How do you feel?" the man asked, taking a seat beside him on the bed.

"Confused," Qui-Gon rasped, his throat dry. "Where am I?"

"You're in your assigned quarters here on Zantia. Are you feeling any pain?"

"Minimal. Everything is a bit foggy."

"Good. The medication is working then," the elder nodded with satisfaction. "It's a temporary remedy, of course, but you should find the effects of the bond much easier to manage while under its influence."

Hearing the word 'bond' had Qui-Gon wanting to crawl back into unconsciousness so that he could forget what was happening. "Who are you?" he asked, a touch of impatience weaving its way into his tone. This was all too much to bear alone, and the Force wasn't offering him any kind of support. Indeed, the silence was deafening.

"I am Doctor Kalem Kavaali," the man explained. "I've come from Onaru province–"

"And what do you know of bonds?" Qui-Gon interrupted. That was uncalled for and he knew it, but the sudden urge to spring from the bed and run as far away as his legs would carry him was nearly overwhelming. His body, his mind – nothing was under his own control. Like a puppet at the mercy of a maniacal handler...

Doctor Kavaali smiled sadly at him. "Well enough, I should think. I spent fifty-three years in residence at the Temple Healer's Ward."

Oh, gods. He'd just insulted a Jedi healer.

"Retired master healer," the old man corrected aloud. At Qui-Gon's shocked look he continued, "And yes, your shields are in a bit of a mess right now, though that's understandable given the circumstances."

Reaching out with what was left of his Force control, the master scanned the currents of the Living Force. Sure enough, Doctor Kavaali's Force signature glowed brightly amid the colorful Force eddys that surrounded them.

"My deepest apologies, Master," Qui-Gon murmured quietly, embarrassed.

"Accepted. Now let's talk about this bond of yours."

The Jedi master winced. "I don't know how it happened."

"Of course you do."

"It will dissipate," Qui-Gon insisted, his impatience returning.

"Why are you so reluctant to accept the bond?"

"It will dissipate," he repeated more forcefully, though he couldn't tell who he was trying to convince more, the healer or himself. Closing his eyes, he tried blanking the world out. He just wanted to make everyone and everything disappear.

After a few moments of silence, Doctor Kavaali finally spoke, "This bond isn't going anywhere, I'm afraid."

Frustrated blue eyes flew open to stare at the healer.

"You are the recipient of a Life Bond, Qui-Gon. The Force brought you and Obi-Wan together, and there is no way to willfully dissolve that connection short of death."

Qui-Gon swallowed hard. A Life Bond...one of the strongest Force bonds possible. "Why?"

Kavaali smiled. "Unless the Force chooses to bequeath such information upon you, there is no way to tell why things like this happen. They simply do, and all the rest of us can do is _accept_ them," the doctor finished, raising his eyebrows for emphasis.

"I cannot accept it."

"Why is this such a hardship for you, Qui-Gon? Most people would be thrilled to find themselves Force-bonded."

Qui-Gon's fists clenched reflexively. He was bonded all right – bonded to a man he hardly knew. "It's a mistake," he whispered. Force, it had to be.

"Master Yoda warned me that you were a difficult one," Kavaali shook his head, his blue eyes saddened. "There is no way to get away from this, my young Jedi master. With a little help from the Force, your destiny has made its path exceedingly clear. Be at peace with that. Resistance will only cause further pain for both of you."

Qui-Gon nearly laughed at being called 'young,' but the gravity of the situation chased all humorous thoughts away. He closed his eyes again, trying to keep despair at bay, but the feeling of helplessness was too much for him to bear. In the midst of all his whirling emotions was a strong thread of anger that was gaining strength from his instability, something that distressed Qui-Gon as much as it did the venerable healer at his side. That would have to be dealt with quickly, with or without the help of the Force.

"You must rest, Qui-Gon. You are allowing a dangerous amount of turmoil to govern your thoughts and actions."

"The Force is closed to me," the Jedi master expressed. "I've no way to release these feelings."

Doctor Kavaali regarded Qui-Gon critically, noting how he wouldn't even look at him any longer. "Perhaps the Force isn't the entity which has closed itself off."

The healer's words hung in the air for a long moment before he politely excused himself, once again telling the master to get some rest. All Qui-Gon could do was lay there, stunned, listening as the old man's footsteps receded, leaving him feeling more alone than he'd ever been before in his entire life.

~ * ~ * ~

Qui-Gon sat down heavily in front of the communications terminal. He'd been awake for some time, but hadn't ventured downstairs until he was sure the crowd of well-wishers had departed for the evening. Only Tonneman had remained, and he'd just left to fetch Qui-Gon something to eat. Obi-Wan, it appeared, was bunking next door with Doctor Kavaali while Tonneman would be staying with him. In the event that one of the bondmates needed assistance, medical or otherwise, there would be someone there to help immediately.

The pain had reasserted itself, though it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been earlier in the day. Squinting against the throbbing between his temples, Qui-Gon scanned the instructions for securing an offworld connection. After a moment, he contacted planetary communications and made his request.

The door chime sounded quietly just as he'd sat back to wait for his connection to go through. He didn't need the door to open to know who it was.

"Come in," he ordered softly.

Obi-Wan stepped hesitantly into the suite. He stood silently for a few moments, keen eyes taking in the tense, yet defeated posture of his bondmate. The Jedi master did not turn to look at him; he just continued to fidget mindlessly with the terminal's control panel. "Qui-Gon?"

The senator's soft voice carried through the room and wrapped around him like a live current of electricity, jump-starting his genitals and causing a potent surge of longing to wash through him.

"Are you all right?" Obi-Wan continued, his voice closer now.

Qui-Gon swallowed hard at his bondmate's gentle, caring tone. With all that he'd said to the younger man, all that he'd put him through these last few hours, Obi-Wan was still genuinely concerned for his well-being. He could feel the compassion rolling against him in wave after tempting wave, caressing and coaxing frayed nerves until he could no longer deny that his desire for the senator wasn't comprised solely of lust. He was deeply in love with him. He was in love with that voice and that body, with that remarkable smile and that cunning intellect – everything that was distinctly Obi-Wan Kenobi. But most of all, he was in love with that affectionate heart which gave so much and asked so little in return...

"We need to talk about this," the young man pleaded when Qui-Gon didn't answer. "Things can't remain as they are."

"I don't know what to tell you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon admitted, rubbing at his temples. The pain had lessened considerably since Obi-Wan entered the room, but the bond's call was still strong. His fingers itched to reach out to the other man, to touch and pull him close.

Oh, Force. This. Can. Not. Be.

The senator wrapped his arms around himself, but the gesture was a poor substitute for the embrace he truly ached for. His handsome face was drawn and pale, his bright eyes dulled with the enormous burden that had been placed on his shoulders. It was hard for him to believe that some twenty-six hours ago, he'd been wooing a certain Jedi master, hoping to make that handsome man blush just one more time. Funny how things can change so quickly.

"The doctor tells me there is no way to sever this bond," Obi-Wan choked out. Not that he would ever wish for such a thing. "We can't spend the rest of our lives avoiding each other."

"We will do what we must," the master informed him tersely, his impatience beginning to rear its ugly head again. "And right now, I am doing what I must do." Gods, he needed to find his center through all this chaos. It seemed an impossible task.

"May I at least remain inside your suite? The pain–"

"That would not be a good idea," Qui-Gon interrupted. His tone was chilling, he knew, but he was just barely in control of himself. As it was, his hands were shaking badly as he fought against the call of the bond. He quickly hid them in the voluminous sleeves of his robe, a small part of him wondering whether Obi-Wan was having the same kind of physical reaction.

The communications terminal beeped suddenly, indicating that his connection had been established. Taking a deep breath, Qui-Gon tilted his head somewhat, though he still didn't look directly at the younger man. "I would appreciate privacy for this transmission."

The dismissal stung terribly, but the hurt blended right in with the mass of psychological pain that Obi-Wan had already endured. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he backed up, still eyeing his bondmate sadly, until his presence activated the door. A moment later, he turned and exited the suite, the long trail of his grief following him silently.

A voice inside Qui-Gon's head screamed at him, cursing him for his lack of compassion, but he ignored it. After thumbing one of the controls, the view screen in front of him snapped to life, bringing with it the face of one of the most respected Jedi in the Order.

"Master," Qui-Gon greeted, his eyes widening as he gazed at his former master.

Yoda stared back at him with undisguised disappointment, eyes slitted dangerously and ears lowered to a level Qui-Gon had never seen before. The venerable master's mouth was a thin line of unyielding aggravation, and his hand clutched the top of his gimmer stick so hard that his small knuckles had turned a pale shade of green. His appearance left no doubt as to what sort of mood he was in.

"Master, I require your guidance–"

"Require nothing from me you do, Qui-Gon Jinn."

The words hit like a wall of fire-breath, singeing already frayed nerves to the point of snapping. Even as a reckless youth, Qui-Gon had never been the recipient of such a harsh and unsympathetic tone from his master.

"Master..." he appealed.

Yoda dismissed his plea with a sharp wave of his hand. "Shame me, you do. Unbecoming of a Jedi, selfishness is."

"I didn't ask for this to happen," Qui-Gon barked, his voice caught somewhere between a growl and a sob.

"Resist a Life Bond, only you would," the ancient master continued, ignoring his former padawan's outburst. "Concerned only for yourself, you are."

Qui-Gon blinked back a rare wash of tears. His master had never spoken to him with such contempt.

"Defy the Force, you do!" Yoda continued forcefully, thumping his gimmer stick loudly for emphasis. His green eyes had widened with the strength of his emotions. "Follow the will of the Force by your own choice, you always have; do so now, you must!"

"This has got to be a mistake!" Qui-Gon implored.

Yoda's face screwed up in distaste. "Stubborn, you are. So stubborn..."

Qui-Gon was terribly hurt that his own master didn't appear to understand. "I don't know what to do," he admitted, suddenly feeling completely drained.

"Help you, I cannot," Yoda declared firmly, his expression still hard.

"But the Force remains silent!"

"Then find your own answers, you must, Qui-Gon. Inside you somewhere, they are." With that, the Jedi master leaned forward and cut the transmission, his abrupt departure ripping a hole through Qui-Gon's heart.

Drawing in a shaky breath, he hid his face in his hands, trying to stay calm. The Force wouldn't speak to him, and now it appeared his master had shut him out as well. The universe was surely going mad.


	7. Chapter 7

Obi-Wan sat quietly on the plush sofa in his temporary quarters, staring absently out the window. There were no stars visible this evening, only the gentle flash of distant lightning. A storm was brewing on the horizon, one of many that would bring life-sustaining rain to the beautiful plant life that was so much a part of Zantian culture. Storms were welcome here, not feared as they were on some planets. They were good omens, a nurturing force that aided all things. If only this one could wash away the unbearable pain Obi-Wan was experiencing.

He felt Doctor Kavaali approaching, felt the old healer begin to rub his back sympathetically, but it didn't help. "This isn't going to work, is it?" Obi-Wan whispered.

"Qui-Gon Jinn is an exceptionally stubborn human being," Kavaali explained gently. "I would imagine that's helped him to survive situations that would have destroyed other Jedi masters. Unfortunately, that same trait is doing just the opposite at this time."

The senator closed his eyes, wincing as the desire to seek out his bondmate strengthened, pulling at him mentally. "What will happen now?"

The doctor sighed softly. "The bond will continue to grow; there is no stopping it. Eventually it will become impossible for the two of you to remain apart, physically."

"How is that an advantage for _happily_ bonded couples?"

"Oh, the need to constantly be in each other's presence diminishes once the bond is stabilized. The drive to do so is a safety mechanism, a way of ensuring the success of the bond. If both of you were willing recipients, you would have already been placed in seclusion until your connection was sufficiently strengthened."

Obi-Wan considered the healer's words. "I don't want this to be forced on him," he admitted reluctantly, his throat tightening. "He doesn't share my feelings; he shouldn't have to deal with an unwanted bond."

"That's not for any of us to decide, my young friend," Kavaali soothed. "I've dedicated my entire life to serving the Force, and while I don't claim to understand its motives in matters like these, I do know that it is very wise. There is a reason you and Qui-Gon were brought together. We may never know what that reason is, but you must trust in the Force. It will never guide you falsely."

The young man glanced skeptically at Kavaali. If the Force was such a good thing, why was it causing so much pain? Thunder rumbled in the distance, drawing Obi-Wan's attention away from his companion. The night sky was alive with brilliant streaks of lightning which slithered in all different directions, and the trees outside had begun to sway with the strong gusts of wind blowing in from the south.

The storm front had arrived.

~ * ~ * ~

Qui-Gon lay on his side, the excessive softness of the mattress beneath him going unnoticed. He stared blankly at the wall, watching the blinding flashes of lightning without actually registering them. He'd attempted to meditate again after his distressing conversation with Master Yoda, but as he'd expected, there was only silence. Unnerving silence that had set him on edge even further.

He could sense Obi-Wan's presence clearly now, even though the younger man was respecting his wishes by remaining in the other suite. Their bond had deepened; it was opening further, allowing Qui-Gon to sense the seething mass of unsettled emotions emanating from his bondmate. Obi-Wan wouldn't know how to shield his feelings, of course, not that shielding would have done any good in this situation. There was so much confusion inside the young man, confusion and hurt and love.

Love. It was still there, swirling above everything else. And it was growing stronger despite Qui-Gon's continued refusal. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as his chest tightened. Obi-Wan still loved him. By the gods, how could he? The bond. It was a simple answer, but was it the only one? Was it possible that Obi-Wan could have loved him without the bond? Would that beautiful young man have smiled and offered him a lifetime of love without the Force's interference? Was it possible?

"Master Jinn."

He flinched at the sound of the whisper.

"Master Jinn," Tonneman called again, quietly. "There is an incoming transmission for you, from Coruscant."

It was the middle of the night on Zantia, but the Jedi Temple would still be enjoying the warmth of the sun at this hour. Whoever was calling was either unaware of the time difference, or considered the message urgent enough to risk waking him.

Barely aware of his movements, Qui-Gon slowly rolled off the side of the bed and stood up. Tonneman remained close by, obviously alarmed by the Jedi master's near-catatonic demeanor, but he politely left the suite once they'd descended the staircase to give Qui-Gon some privacy.

Settling himself in front of the communications terminal, Qui-Gon considered the possibility that his master might have reconsidered helping him. No...that was false hope. When Yoda made up his mind, there was no swaying him. So, who was calling him in the middle of the night? A quick touch to the control panel answered his question.

Mace Windu, Jedi master and member of the prestigious Jedi Council, appeared on the screen, his dark eyes summing up Qui-Gon's condition with just one glance. Qui-Gon stared back, trying to read the other man. Was he going to receive another scathing lecture, this time from his closest friend and confidant?

Mace offered the distressed Jedi a lopsided grin. Qui-Gon relaxed instantly, certain that he could feel the councilor's sympathy even from this distance. "Mace," he rasped. There was barely anything left of his voice; he felt utterly shattered.

"You look like hell on a good day, Qui-Gon."

"That's about right."

A bright flash of lightning seared through Zantia's atmosphere, disrupting the communication with little ripples of static.

"Storm?" Mace asked. His question was answered immediately by the resounding clap of thunder that shook the consular residence and filtered all the way through the comm channel to Coruscant. The councilor smiled at the sound, though his keen eyes continued to assess his friend's state. The concern on his face was more than apparent. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm having a rough time, but I'm dealing with it," Qui-Gon admitted. "How is Master Yoda?" he inquired after a brief hesitation, sounding very much like a frightened child who needed to know whether there was a chance his parent might forgive him.

"Seriously pissed off," Mace answered honestly. "Everyone in the corridors is giving him a wide berth, and Council sessions are pure hell."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, hiding his shame.

"Qui-Gon..."

Blue eyes cracked back open.

"He can't stay angry with you forever; he loves you too much."

"There was no indication of that earlier this evening."

A small grin spread across the councilor's face. "No one can push his buttons like you can."

Qui-Gon snorted mirthlessly, propping his head against one of his hands. The pain between his temples was still growing steadily. "So what else is happening?"

"Oh, the usual stuff," Mace began, shifting to a more comfortable position in his chair. "Planetary revolts in the Pixolico system, pirates disrupting trade routes. They even uncovered an illegal spice operation right here on Coruscant that was supposedly masterminded by the Hutts – several senators were just implicated this afternoon. The Council was in quite a tizzy over it all."

"I can imagine," Qui-Gon agreed, grateful for the distracting conversation.

"Then, on top of everything else, it comes out that the Council's favorite nonconformist has gone and gotten himself bonded to a _hedonist_ clear on the other side of the galaxy..." the councilor trailed off, his eyes wide in mock-horror. "You've never seen so much proverbial poodoo hit the fan."

Qui-Gon couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's heartfelt attempt at humor, though he had no doubt the Council probably did react unfavorably to the news. He was known for taking the nonconventional approach to issues, a point which aggravated the Jedi Order's governing body to no end. His reputation in that department was nothing less than legendary.

Mace's expression softened then, his mouth curling into a wistful smile. He sat back and eyed the Jedi master carefully. Qui-Gon's amusement had faded quickly and he was now staring absently at the communication terminal's control panel, the pained expression returning. After pausing for a few moments, the councilor spoke, "You know, I had the honor of meeting Senator Kenobi several times during his diplomatic tenure here on Coruscant."

That got Qui-Gon's attention. Blue eyes snapped back up, curiosity written in their depths.

"A remarkable young man," Mace continued. "Very levelheaded and knowledgeable. Extremely compassionate too; he had a genuine interest in helping people, in doing the right thing. I remember thinking how rare it was to find someone with all those qualities within the senatorial pool."

Qui-Gon's expression turned thoughtful as he listened to his friend.

"He was quite handsome too, if I'm remembering correctly," the councilor added slyly.

"I imagine he is, if one is so inclined," the Jedi master chimed in.

Mace blinked in surprise, frowning. "Is that what this is about, Qui-Gon?"

"You know perfectly well that my preferences lie in the other direction, Mace. I've never been remotely interested in men, yet now I'm bonded to one. Permanently."

A grin spread across the councilor's face. "And you're telling me this bond happened spontaneously?" he asked, amused. "There had to have been a strong emotional or physical connection between you two in order for the Life Bond to form, my friend. Since I know you'd never met the senator before arriving on Zantia, I seriously doubt a deep emotional relationship could have sprung up out of nowhere. That leaves only one possibility."

Qui-Gon scowled fiercely at his friend.

"You slept with him," Mace asserted bluntly, his dark eyes dancing with merriment. "Didn't you?"

The Jedi master looked away, embarrassment evident in his posture. When he heard the sound of the councilor's soft laughter, he looked back, eyes flashing with resentment. "It was my duty to do so," he snapped, exaggerating his reasons for allowing the liaison to happen.

That only caused Mace to laugh more. "Oh, no, no..." he shook his head. "Qui-Gon Jinn doesn't do _anything_ that he doesn't want to. As a member of the Council, I can certainly attest to that. Some part of you had to have wanted to be with him, Qui-Gon, and another part of you had to have enjoyed the experience. Otherwise there wouldn't be a bond."

"I didn't want this bond," the Jedi master insisted vehemently, the throbbing in his head intensifying. "I didn't ask for it, and I find it very disconcerting that it was forced upon me. Upon both of us," he amended quickly.

"So, you're angry because you didn't have a say in this whole thing?"

"Yes!"

The councilor quirked an eyebrow; the truth was finally coming out. "And how does Senator Kenobi feel about the bond?"

Qui-Gon mumbled an answer, breaking eye contact.

"Excuse me?" Mace queried, cocking his head and pulling the side of his ear forward as if to imply that he hadn't heard properly, even though he had.

"I said he is agreeable to it," the master repeated, louder this time. There was no reason to explain _exactly_ how overjoyed the younger man had been.

Inhaling slowly, the councilor studied his distraught friend. On one level he could sympathize. Being bonded to someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger had to be difficult. But there was another side to the situation that didn't add up for him. "There was a time," he began, gentling his voice to a tone to which he knew Qui-Gon would respond, "when you spoke longingly about being bonded to someone. Given your proclivity for deep, meaningful relationships as opposed to casual encounters, your admission didn't surprise me at all. You told me that was your fondest wish, to be joined with someone in that manner with the blessing of the Force to guide you. Your wish has come true, my friend; you _are_ bonded. Have you any idea how tremendous a gift you've been given?"

"I always have wished to be bonded with someone, Mace," Qui-Gon confirmed, his voice tight with emotion, "but not like this. I imagined my gaze finding someone else's from across a crowded room – two souls coming into alignment. I imagined a long courtship, for Force's sake, with plenty of enjoyment, plenty of time to live and learn...plenty of time to fall in love before our destinies were forever intertwined. I did _not_ imagine waking after a one-night stand to find myself bonded with a _man_ I hardly know. This bond was formed out of lust, Mace! Lust, not love. I allowed passion to carry me away, to cloud my judgment. This bond is a punishment, not a gift!"

Mace's eyes widened at the outburst. Oh, his friend was hurting. Badly. "You believe the Force is punishing you for enjoying a night of pleasure with no strings attached?"

"Not just me. My actions have caused an innocent young man to suffer as well."

"Qui-Gon, you're not thinking clearly."

"Mace–"

"Listen to me," the councilor urged softly as he leaned forward. "If the Force objected to its followers enjoying a healthy dose of lust once in awhile, we would all be in line for some kind of punishment by now, especially me," he admitted with a wry grin. "I've always admired your discipline in that respect, but I've also sensed your loneliness. Perhaps the Force sensed that same loneliness and decided to do something about it.

"Being thrown into a bond with someone you've only just met can't possibly be easy, but it was meant to happen...for one reason or another it was _meant_ to happen, Qui-Gon," Mace continued as another flash of lightning momentarily disrupted the transmission. "You've made defying the Council into an artform, but defying the will of the Force is a little harder, isn't it?"

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, trying to hide his turmoil, but the effort was futile. The councilor was more than aware of his friend's distress, even across half the galaxy.

Mace paused for a few moments, not wanting to push too hard. Unfortunately, these were things Qui-Gon needed to hear. "You have always trusted in the Force, allowed it to guide your actions, even if that meant going against the Council's wishes," he stressed. "Think about that."

"You think I should just give in?" Qui-Gon's eyes blinked open. In the background, thunder crashed once more, shaking the building right down to its foundation.

The councilor rested his arms on the table in front of him. His face was filled with compassion. "Do you really believe you have a choice? A Life Bond cannot be broken. You can either spend the rest of your life resisting this, making the both of you miserable, or you can embrace the gift – yes, the _gift_ – bestowed upon you, and relish in the kind of relationship you've always wanted. Let go of your anger, Qui-Gon, and let go of these gender issues. They're all meaningless. The Force would never bond two people together without the promise of great love and happiness."

Qui-Gon looked away quickly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "I wish this had never happened to me," he whispered painfully, still not ready to hear the meaning in his friend's words.

"So do I," the councilor agreed, a wicked grin forming on his face. "I wanted that mission really badly, damn it."

The laughter was entirely unexpected, but that's exactly what rumbled forth from Qui-Gon's chest. Rubbing his eyes, he smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever. "Thank you, Mace. You've no idea how much I needed this."

"Life is too short," the councilor expressed, his dark eyes twinkling fondly.

Qui-Gon regarded him gratefully. "You're right."

"Of course I am," Mace insisted gently. "Promise me that you'll give these things some thought?"

Feeling the strain of his predicament begin to return, the Jedi master could only nod. His insides fluttered nervously.

The councilor took a deep breath and released it forcefully. "I'm afraid I have to run, Qui-Gon; I'm expected at a reception shortly. Please take care, my friend."

Qui-Gon acknowledged him with another nod. "Thank you again," he murmured.

With one final reassuring smile, Mace Windu disappeared from the screen, leaving the master feeling very alone once more. Outside, the storm gathered force, pelting sheets of rain against the side of the building. Lightning flashed with extraordinary intensity, the deep roar of the thunder following close behind.

Getting up, Qui-Gon made his way back up to the bedroom. He knelt down beside the bed and rested his head against the soft coverlet, trying to ease some of the burden from his shoulders. Too much...it was all just too much.

Was he really being selfish, as Master Yoda had claimed? All these years he'd followed the will of the Force without question, but now he _was_ questioning its wisdom. Had he erred? Had he committed such an offense that it had seen fit to punish him with this bond, this sacred connection...

_Sacred_ connection.

Eternal love. The gift. Of eternal love.

In that single moment of startling clarity, Qui-Gon felt a tendril of the Force pierce through the barriers of denial that he'd erected around himself. He was immediately flooded with love and warmth as well as a blissful tingling that engulfed his entire body. His heart swelled with delight while muscles quivered, causing a sensation very close to that of physical pleasure to roll through him.

The bond...it was intensifying! Oh, Force, Mace was right...a gift! This _was_ a gift. Not punishment...love is never a punishment. Never.

A sudden wave of doubt clouded Qui-Gon's perception even as he relished in the newfound revelation. He'd treated the man he loved so poorly. He _loved_ Obi-Wan. And he'd brushed him aside like yesterday's trash while he'd wrestled with what he thought was a punishment and pouted over his lack of control. Oh gods, he _had_ been selfish. Selfish and stubborn and so disrespectful to everyone who had tried to help. He'd ignored all the tenets of the Code, tossing them to the wind. He'd ignored the Code! What had he become?

Clamping his eyes shut tight, Qui-Gon wrapped his arms around his head, shame creeping up his spine like a cold chill. He didn't deserve this gift. Withdrawing back into himself, he shrank away from the bond once more. The pleasure he felt instantly turned to pain, stretching like a band pulled taut and ready to snap.

"I'm so sorry, Obi-Wan," the master whispered against the coverlet after drawing in a deep, shaky breath. "I'm so sorry...Master, please forgive me..."

The litany of regrets echoed quietly as Qui-Gon finally released all of his fears and frustration. The bond between him and Obi-Wan continued to open wider, pulling incessantly, painfully, until he was forced to grit his teeth and continue his confessions silently. The Force swirled around him frantically, but he was unaware of its presence. So lost was he in grief that he barely registered the strong arms that pulled him away from the bed and wrapped around him lovingly, sheltering him in the bright warmth and pleasure that suddenly returned and grew more vibrant with each passing moment. Hands held him so close while a soft voice joined his own, mingling sweetly until the world became a blur of tactile sensation and powerful Force energy, all coalescing, twisting and writhing together in a vigorous dance that remade the universe with its radiant touch, waving this way and that, up and down...in and out...in and out...thrusting and gasping, crying out again and again in beautiful harmony until the storm finally settled and the voices at last fell silent...and only love remained.

~ * ~ * ~

Blue-green eyes opened cautiously, wincing at the brightness of the sunlight which streamed in through the window. Obi-Wan reached out with one hand, rubbing the side of the bed where Qui-Gon had lain. It was empty. It was also very wet and sticky.

Smiling brightly, the young man rolled over, stretching hugely while delicious sensations gathered in his groin. His morning erection tugged at the bedsheets as he settled on his side, gazing contentedly at the form of his bondmate. Qui-Gon was seated on the floor just a few feet away, arms resting on his naked thighs, eyes closed, and a decidedly tranquil expression on his face. Even though his midichlorian level was minimal at best, Obi-Wan could still feel the ripples of energy radiating from the Jedi master as he communed with the Force. He looked beautiful. And at peace.

Obi-Wan's eyes took on a distant look as he relived the events of the past few days. There had been great pain, yes, but in the end he had dismissed it all without a second thought. The only thing that mattered to him was Qui-Gon and the love they shared.

"He loves me," the young man whispered quietly to himself. Indeed, he knew that now; he'd heard the mental declaration as clear as if he'd been standing in the same room with Qui-Gon the previous night. He'd rushed out the door and into the master's suite faster than a bolt of lightning once he'd realized what was happening. Tonneman and Doctor Kavaali had left them in peace then, allowing the privacy necessary for the bond to deepen. It would take some time, but eventually their connection would stabilize, allowing them to carry on with their lives. The only difference would be that they would carry on _together_...forever joined in body and soul.

Quietly pulling back the covers, Obi-Wan stood up and padded to where his lover was meditating. He was hesitant to disturb the older man, but the urge to touch was growing strong. Seating himself behind the Jedi master, Obi-Wan snuggled close with his chest resting against the other man's back. Sighing softly, he laid his head on the vast expanse of muscled flesh and closed his eyes. He smiled a moment later, unaware that his smile was mirrored on the face of his beloved. The Force was smiling too, bright Force-currents wrapping around the two bondmates, relishing in their peace...and their love.

~ * ~ * ~

**EPILOGUE - Three Months Later...**

Master Mace Windu made his way through the Temple corridors slowly, adjusting his pace to that of his companion. Beside him, Master Yoda ambled along leisurely, the soft click of his gimmer stick echoing off the walls.

"I believe your logic is flawed, Master," Mace offered, his expression playful. "He would never go for something like that."

Yoda hurrumphed loudly. "Follow the logic of the Force, I do," he proclaimed proudly.

Unable to keep his amusement in check, the human councilor grinned broadly. "It's possible that even the Force could be wrong." Oh, he was just _asking_ for a full-scale argument with such a loaded statement, but he also knew the ancient Jedi master was in good spirits today. Any bantering would be good-natured and brief given their schedule.

"Ohhh?" Yoda's ears rose to near vertical and his eyes widened as he turned to gaze at the other councilor. "So certain, are you?"

"He's too private," Mace explained matter-of-factly. "His manner while in public is very dignified. There's just no way."

The small master chuckled softly. "Serious he may be, but happen this will."

"I don't think so."

"Right, I am."

Mace fought back a belly laugh; this conversation was hysterical. It had been a long time since Yoda had been this gamesome. Usually the weight of the universe could be seen in his ancient green eyes, centuries of changes, both good and bad, reflected in their depths. Today, however, those same eyes carried a twinkle of merriment that seemed to make Coruscant's sun shine a little brighter.

The two respected Jedi crossed the cavernous Temple antechamber and came to a stop just inside the grand doorway. Pillars of marble lined the lengthy rows of steps outside leading up to the main entrance of the Temple. An aircar was parked at the very bottom of the steps, where Master Qui-Gon Jinn was supervising a small group of senior initiates who had volunteered to help with the luggage. Nearby, Senator Obi-Wan Kenobi watched his bondmate with the children, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Folding his arms across his chest, Mace watched the scene skeptically. "It won't happen," he murmured quietly, the words intended for Yoda's ears only.

"It will."

Shaking his head, the human councilor focused his attention on his closest friend. Qui-Gon continued to monitor the children, his deep voice offering praise so clearly that it could be heard all the way to the top of the steps. The boys and girls beamed as they carried the senator's personal belongings up toward the entrance where they would be transferred to Master Jinn's quarters.

Mace's eyes widened in anticipation as he watched Qui-Gon approach his bondmate. He and Obi-Wan spoke quietly for a few moments, the movement of their lips visible, though their words didn't carry up to where the two curious Jedi watched from the shadows. The senator laughed suddenly, a bright, cheerful sound, and before the watchful councilors could even take another breath, Qui-Gon leaned down and gathered the younger man in his arms, kissing him firmly and passionately right there in front of the Temple for all to see.

Mace's jaw dropped open slightly as he watched, completely stunned by the amorous scene. Qui-Gon Jinn, one of the most reserved Jedi in the Order, kissing in public? "Well, I'll be damned," he remarked, dragging his eyes away from the lovers to glance at the small being beside him. "You win."

But Master Yoda didn't hear his fellow councilor's admission. The ancient Jedi master continued to gaze at his former padawan learner, eyes sparkling and ears quivering with absolute joy.

~ * ~ **finis** ~ * ~


End file.
